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A  U  TH  OR : 


WINDHAM.  WILLIAM 


TITLE: 


SUBSTANCE  OF  THE 

^1  ttwii  .... 


PLA  CE . 


LONDON 


DA  TE : 


1802 


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Windham,   Willi i-^^.    a.  i  ^.— ^i. -^-« 

cub3t?ULce  of  chisj  speech  delivered  in  the 

House  of  cc-:Tajn3_  .Nov,    -t,   IBOl,  on  tie  report  of  an 

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Cisw' 


SUBSTANCE 


OP    THE 


SPEECH 


OF    THE 


RIGHT   HONOURABLE 


I  * 


DELIVERED    IN    THE 


HOUSE  OF  COMMONS, 


WEDNESDAY,   NOV.  4,    I8OI, 


V 


ON   THE 


REPORT  OF  AN  ADDRESS  TO  THE  THRONE, 


APPROVING   OP  TH» 


PRELIMINARIES  OF  PEACE 

WITH   THE 

REPUBLIC K  OF  FRANCE. 


SECOND   EDITION,    IVITH  NOTES. 


LONDON: 

PUBLISHED    BY    COBBETT    AND    MORGAN,    PALI  MALI. 


April  9,  1S02. 


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SUBSTANCE 


OF    THE 


SPEECH 


OF  THE 


RIGHT  HONOURABLE 


M^ILLIAM    WINDHAM,   &:c. 


SIR, 

An  the  present  stage  of  this  business,  and  in  a 
house  so  little  numerous,  I  am  not  disposed  to 
take  up  the  subject  in  the  way  in  which  1 
should  have  wished  to  consider  it,  had  I  been 
able  with  tolerable  satisfaction  to  myself,  to  de- 
liver my  sentiments  in  the  debate  of  last  night. 
Something,  however,  I  wish  to  say,  founded  la 
a  great  measure  on  what  then  took  place. 

All  that  I  heard,  and  all  that  I  saw,  on  that 
occasion,  tends  only  to  confirm  more  and  more 
the  deep  despair  in  which  I  am  plunged,  in 
contemplating  die  probable  consequences  of  the 
present  Treaty. 

Notwith- 


^  fl 


it 


// 


lii 


ij 


-dC#>   -^».* 


^Notwithstanding  some  lofty  talk  which  w'e 
heard  of  dignity  and  firmness,   and   which   1 
shall  be  glad  to  see  reahzed,  and  a  happy  quo- 
tation,  expressive  of  the  same  sentiments,  from 
my  Honourable  Friend  not  now  present  (Mr. 
Pitt),  the  real  amount  of  what  was  said,  seems  to 
be  little  more  than  this  :— that  France  has,  to  be 
sure,  the  power  of  destroying  us,  but  that  we 
hope  she  will  not  have  the  inclination;— \\v^{ 
we  are  under  the  paw  of  the  lion,  but  that  lie 
may  happen  not  to  be  hungry,  and,  instead  of 
making  a  meal  of  us,   may  turn  round  in  his 
den,  and  go  to  sleep.—This  is  not  stated  in  so 
many  words :  but  it  will   be  difficult  to  shew, 
that  it  is  not  the  fair  result  of  the  arguments. 

That  I  should  have  lived  to  see  the  dav, 
when  such  arguments  could  be  used  in  a  Bri- 
tish House  of  Commons  !— that  I  should  have 
lived  to  see  a  House  of  Commons,  w^here  such 
arguments  could  be  heard  with  patience,  and 
even  with  complacency !— The  substance  of 
the  statement  is  this.  We  make  Peace,  not 
from  any  necessity  actually  existing,  (my  Ho- 
nourable Friends,  with  great  propriety,  reject 
that  supposition)  *,  but  because  w^e  foresee  a 

period. 


*  See  Appendix  A. 


period,  at  no  great  distance,  vC^hen  such  a  neces- 
city  must  arise;  and  we  think  it  right,  that 
provision  for  such  a  case  should  be  made  in 
time. — We  treat,  or,  to  take  at  once  the  more 
appropriate  term,  w^e  capitulate,  while  we  have 
yet  some  ammunition  left.  General  Menou 
could  do  no  more.  General  Menou  could  do 
no  more  in  one  sense ;  but  in  another  he  did,  I 
fear  a  great  deal  more : — a  point  to  which  I 
must  say  a  word  hereafter ; — he  did  not  aban- 
don to  their  fate  those  whom  he  had  invited  to 
follow  his  fortunes,  and  to  look  up  to  him  as 
their  protector.  Both,  however,  capitulated; 
and  upon  the  plain  and  ordinary  grounds  of 
such  a  proceeding,  namely,  that  their  means 
of  resistance  must  soon  come  to  an  end,  and 
that  they  had  no  such  hopes  of  any  fortunate 
turn  in  their  favour,  as  to  justify  a  continuance 
of  their  resistance  in  the  mean  time.  The 
conduct  of  both  in  the  circumstances  supposed, 
was  perfectly  rational :  but  let  us  recollect,  that 
those  \\  ho  stand  in  such  circumstances,  be  they 
generals  or  be  they  nations,  are,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  conquered!  I  know  not  what  other 
definition  we  want  of  being  conquered,  than 
that  a  country  can  say  to  us,  *'  we  can  hold 
^'  out,  and  you  cannot;  make  Peace,  or  we 

^'  will 


li 


:l 


r  h 

'      V 


i 


>"*«»«*ai^w?i 


--liipiJf^,— ».,J5:  i-i 


8 


"will  ruin  you:"  and  that  you,  in  con- 
scqucncx",  make  Peace,  upon  terms  which  must 
render  a  renewal  of  hostilities,  under  any  pro- 
vocation, more  certainly  fatal  than  a  continua- 
tion of  that  War,  which  you  already  declare 
yourselves  unable  to  bear. 

If  such  be  the  fact,  we  may  amuse  our- 
selves with  talking  what  language  we  please ; 
but  we  are  a  conquered  people.  Buonaparte  is  as 
much  our  master,  as  he  is  of  Spain  or  Prussia, 
or  any  other  of  those  countries,  which,  though 
still  permitted  to  call  themselves  independent, 
arc,  as  every  body  knows,  as  completely  in  his 
power,  as  if  the  name  of  department  was  already 
written  uj)on  their  foreheads. — There  are  but 
tw^o  questions, — Is  the  relation  between  the 
countries  such,  that  France  can  ruin  us  by 
continuing  the  War?  and  will  that  relation  In 
substance  remain  the  same,  or  rather  will  It  not 
be  rendered  infinitely  worse,  by  Peace,  upon 
tlic  terms  now  proposed  ? — If  both  these  ques- 
tions are  answered  in  the  affirmative,  the  whole 
is  decided,  and  w^e  live  henceforward  by  sulVer- 
ance  from  France. 

Sir,  before  we  endeavour  to  estimate  our 
prospects  in  this  new  and  honourable  state  of 
existence  I  wish  to  considep  for  a  moment,  what 

the 


9 

the  reasonings  are,  that  have  determined  our 
choice,  as  to  the  particular  mode  of  it;  and 
why  we  think  that  ruin  by  War  must  be  so 
much  more  speedy  and  certain,  than  ruin  by 
Peace.  And  here  I  will  take  pretty  much  the 
statement  given  by  the  Honourable  Gentlemen 
who  argue  on  the  other  side. 

I  agree,   that  the  question  Is  not,  whether 
this  Peace  be  good  or  bad,   honourable  or  dis- 
honourable, adequate  or  inadequate ;  whether 
it  places  us  in  a  situation  better  or  w^orse,  than 
we  had  reason  to  expect,  or  than  we  were  in 
before  the  A\'ar.     All  these  are  parts  of  the 
question,  and  many  of  them  very  material  parts; 
but  the  question  itself  Is,  whether  the  Peace 
now  proposed,  such  as  it  is,  be  better,  or  not, 
than  a  continuation  of  liGstllities? — Whether, 
according  to  a  familiar  mode  of  speech,  we 
may  not  go  farther  and  fare  worse  ? — Whether, 
to  take  the  same  form  In  a  manner  somewhat 
more  developed  and  correct,   the  chances  of 
faring  better,   compared  with  the  chances  of 
faring  worse,  and  including  the  certainty  of  the 
intermediate  evils,   do  not  render  it  advlseable 
upon  the  whole,  that  we  should  rest  contented 
where  we  are. 
*     This  I  take  to  be  the  statement  of  the 

B  question. 


fi 

h 


If 


I 


hi 


,11 


y"      i    I 


I' 


li 


■f 


1: 


10 

question,  on  the  present,  and  on  all  similar  oc* 
casions :  nor  do  I  know  of  any  addition  ne- 
cessary to  be  made,  except  to  observe,  that  in 
estimating  the  terms  of  Peace  in  the  manner 
here  proposed,  you  are  not  merely  to  consider 
the  physical  force,  or  pecuniary  value,  of  the 
objects  concerned,  but  also  the  effect  which 
Peace,  made  in  such  and  such  circumstances, 
is  likely  to  have  on  the  character  and  estimation 
of  the  country ;  a  species  of  possession,  which, 
though  neither  tangible  nor  visible,  is  as  much 
a  part  of  national  strengdi,  and  has  as  real  a 
value,   as  any  thing  that  can   be  tMrned  hito 
pounds  and  shillings,  that  can  be  sold  by  the 
score   or  hundred,   or  weighed  out  in   avoir- 
dupoise.     Accordhigly  a  statesman,   acting  for 
a  great  country,  may  very  well  be  in  the  situa- 
tion  of  saying,— I  would  make  Peace  at  this 
time,  if  nothing  more  were  in  question,   than 
the  value  of  the  objects  now  offered  me,  com- 
pared  with  those  which  I  may  hope  to  obtain : 
but  when  I  consider  what  the  effect  is,  which 
Peace,  made  in  the  present  circumstances,  will 
have  upon  the  estimation  of  the  country;  what 
the  weakness  is  which  it  will  betray;  what  the 
suspicions  it  will  excite ;  what  the  distrust  and 
alienation  it  will  produce,  in  the  minds  of  all 

the 


11 

ihfe  surrounding  nations ;  how  it  will  lowef  m 
in  their  eyes ;  how  it  will  teach  them  universally 
to  fly  from  connexion  with  a  country,  which 
neither  protects  its  friends,  nor  seems  any  longer 
capable  of  protecting  itself,  in  order  to  turn  to 
those,  who,  while  their  vengeance  is  terrible^ 
will  not  suffer  a  hair  of  the  head  to  be  touched^ 
of  any  who  will  put  themselves  under  their  pro- 
tection;— when  I  consider  these  consequences^ 
hot  less  real,  or  permanent,  or  extensive,  than 
those  which  present  themselves  in  the  shape  of 
territorial  strength  or  commercial  resources,  I 
must  reject  these  terms,  which  otherwise  I 
should  feel  disposed  to  accept,  and  say,  that, 
putting  character  into  the  scale,  the  incli- 
nation of  the  balance  is  decidedly  the  other 
way. 

Sir,  there  is  in  all  this  nothing  new  or  re- 
fined, or  more  than  will  be  admitted  by  every 
one  in  words ;  though  there  seems  so  litde  dis- 
position to  adhere  to  it  in  fact* — If  we  refer  to 
the  practice  of  only  our  own  time,  what  was  the 
case  of  the  Falkland  Islands  and  Nootka  ?  Was 
it  the  value  of  these  objects,  that  we  were  going 
to  War  for  ?  The  one  was  a  barren  rock,  an 
object  of  competition  for  nothing  but  seals  and 
seagulls :  the  other  a  point  of  land  in  a  wilder- 

B  2  ness. 


(  61 


I      . 


r.. 


<■  i 


>  I  im 


t 


12 

* 

uess,  where  some  obscure,  though  spirited,  ad- 
venturers had  hoped  that  they  might  in  time 
estabHsh  a  trade  with  the  savages  for  furs. 
Were  these,  objects  to  involve  nations  in  A^'ars  ? 
If  there  was  a  question  of  their  doing  so,  it  w  as 
because  considerations  of  a  far  different  kind 
were  attached  to  them, — considerations  of  na- 
tional honour  and  dignity;  between  which  and 
the  objects  themselves,  there  may  often  be  no 
more  proportion,  than  between  the  picture  of  a 
great  master,  and  the  canvas  on  wliieh  it  is 
painted. 

If  I  wished  for  authorities  upon  such  a 
subject,  I  need  go  no  further  than  to  the  Ho- 
nourable Gentleman,  [Mr.  Fox,]  who  has  re- 
curred to  a  sentiment,  produced  by  him  for- 
merly with  something  of  paradoxical  exaggera- 
tion, (diough  true  in  the  main,)  namely,  that 
Wars  for  points  of  honour,  are  really  the  only 
rational  and  prudential  Wars  in  which  a  country 
can  engage.  Much  of  the  same  sort  is  the 
sentiment  of  another  popular  teacher,  Junius, 
who,  upon  the  subject  of  these  very  Falkland 
Islands,  says,  in  terms  which  it  may  be  worth 
w^hilc  to  quote,  not  for  the  merit  of  the  language, 
nor  tlie  authority  of  the  writer, — though  neither 
of  them  without  their  value, — but  to   show, 

what 


13 

^^'•hat  w^re  once  the  feelings  of  EngUshmcn, 
and  what  the  topics  chosen  by  a  writer,  whose 
object  it  was  to  recommend  himself  to  the  peo- 
ple :  *'  To  depart,  in  the  minutest  article,  from 
**  the  nicety  and  strictness  of  punctilio,  is  as 
'*  dangerous  to  national  honour,  as  it  is  to  fe- 
**  male  virtue.  The  woman  who  admits  of  one 
'*  familiarity,  seldom  knows  where  to  stop,  or 
**  what  to  refuse ;  and  when  the  counsels  of  a 
*'  great  country  give  way  in  a  single  instance, 
'^  when  they  are  once  inclined  to  submission, 
*'  every  step  accelerates  the  rapidity  of  their 
•'  descent!" 

We  are  not  therefore,  according  to  the 
present  fashion,  to  fall  to  calculating,  and  to 
ask  ourselves,  what  is  the  value  at  market  of 
such  and  such  an  object,  and  how  much  it  will 
cost  us  to  obtain  it.  If  these  objects  alone  were 
at  stake,  I  should  admit  the  principle  in  its  full 
force ;  and  should  be  among  the  first  to  declare, 
that  no  object  of  mere  pecuniary  value  could 
ever  be  worth  obtaining  at  the  price  of  a  War : 
but  when  particular  points  of  honour  are  at 
stake,  as  at  Nootka  or  the  Falkland  Islands 
(without  inquiring,  whether  in  those  cases  the 
point  of  honour  was  either  well  chosen,  or 
rightly  estimated);  and  still  more,  where  ge- 
neral 


) 


my^ 


u 

neral  impression,  where  uiiiver-sal  estim:itioii^ 
where  the  conception  to  be  formed  of  the  feel- 
ings, temper,  power,  policy,  and  views  ol'  a 
great  nation  are  ifi  question,  there  to  talk  of 
calculating  the  loss  or  profit  of  possessions  to 
which  these  considerations  may  be  attached  by 
their  price  at  market,  or  the  value  of  their  fcc- 
simple,  is  like  the  idea  of  Dr.  Swift,  when  he 
IS  comparing  the  grants  to  the  Duke  of  Marl^ 
borough,  with  the  rewards  of  a  Roman  con- 
queror, and  estimates  the  crown  of  laurel  at 
two-pence. 

The  first  question  for  a  great  country  to 
a<k  itself, — the  first  in  point  of  order,  and  the 
the  first  in  consequence, — is  this:  Is  the  part 
which  I  am  about  to  act  consonant  to  that  liioh 
estimation  which  I  have  hitherto  maintained 
among  the  nations  of  the  world?  Will  my 
reputation  suffer?* — whether  that  reputation 
relate  to  the  supjiosed  extent  of  its  means,  to 
the  vigour  and  wisdom  of  its  counsels,  or  to 
the  uprightness  of  its  intentions.  If,  in  any  of 
these  ways,  the  country  is  to  sustain  a  loss  of 
character ;  if  the  effect  of  what  is  proposed  be 
to  render  it  less  respected,  less  looked  up  to,  less 

trusted^ 


^■ 


♦  See  Appendix  B. 


15 

trusted,  less  feared;  if  its  firmness  in  limes  of  trial, 
its  fidelity  to  its  engagements,  its  steady  adhe- 
rence to  its  purposes  through  all  fortunes,  are  to 
be  called  in  question ;  it  must  be  a  strong  necessity 
indeed,  stronger  than  any  ^\'hich  I  believe  to  exist 
in  the  present  instance,  that  ought  to  induce  it 
even  to  listen  to  counsels  liable  to  be  attended 
with   any  of  these   consequences.     It  must  be 
a    weiglity  danger,    that,   in  the  scales    of    a 
great  country,    can  be  allowed  to  balance   the 
Joss  of  any  part  of  its  dignity.     AVhat  then  shall 
we  say  ofa  country,  v/hich,  abandoning  from  the 
outset  cver\^  consideration  of  this  sort,  ^ill  not 
wait  till  it  becomes  insecure  by  ceasing  to  be 
respectable,  but  becomes  unrespectable  by  ceas- 
ing to  be  secure  ?  Which  drops  at  once  at  the 
feet  of  its  rival  ?   Which   begins  by  a  complete 
surrender  of  its  security ;  and  suffers  fame,  cha- 
racter, dignity,  and  every  thing  else,  to  go  along 
widi  it? 

Whether  such  is  the  situation  of  this 
pountry,  we  shall  judge  better  by  taking  a  short 
viev/  of  the  terms  of  the  proposed  Peace.  The 
description  of  these  is  simple  and  easy: — France 
gives  nothing,  and,  excepting  Trinidad  and 
Ceylon,  England  gives  every  thing.  If  it  were 
pf  any  consequence  testate  what  in diplpmatick 
language  was  the  basis  of  this  treaty,  we  mi;st 

say, 


*  1 


A 


' 


16 

say,  that  It  had  no  one  basis;  but  that  it  was  the 
status  guo,  on  the  part  of  England,  with  the  tvva 
exceptions  In  its  favour,  of  Ceylon  and  Trini .  ul; 
and  the  uti possidetis,  with  the  addition  of  al!  the 
other  English  conquests,  on  the  part  of  France. 
But  what  may  be  the  technical  description  of  the 
treaty,  is,  comparatively,  of  litde  importance. 
It  Is  the  result  that  is  material,  and  the  extent  of 
power  and  territory,  now,  by  whatever  means, 
actually  remaining  in  the  hands  of  France.  The 
enumeration  of  this,  liable  indeed  In  part  to  be 
disputed,  but  upon  the  whole  sufticlently  correct, 
may  be  made  as  follows : 

In  Europe. — France  possesses  the  whole 
of  the  Continent,'^'-  with  the  exception  of  Russia 
and  Austria.  If  it  be  said,  that  parts  of  Ger- 
many, and  the  Northern  courts  of  Denmark 
and  Sweden  are  not  fairly  described  as  being 
immediately  under  the  controul  of  lYance,  we 
must  balance  this  consideration  by  remarking, 
the  influence  which  France  possesses  in  diesc 
governments,  and  the  commanding  position 
which  she  occupies  with  respect  to  Austria,  by 
the  possession  of  Switzerland  and  Mantua,  and 
those  countries  which  have  been  considered 
always,  and  twice  In  the  course  of  the  present 

War, 


17 

War,  have  proved  ta  be  the  direct  inlet  info 
tlie  heart  of  her  dominions. 

In  Asia, — Pondichery,  Mah6,  Cochin,  Ne- 
gapatam,  the  Spice  Islands. 

In  Africa,— the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
Goree,  Senegal. 

In  the  Sea  that  is  enclosed  by  diese  tliree 
continents,  which  connects  them  all,  and  fur- 
nishes to  us  in  many  respects  our  best  and  surest 
communication  with  them, — the  Mediterra- 
nean,— every  port  and  post  except  Gibraltar, 
IJom  one  end  of  It  to  the  other,*  including  the 
impregnable  and  invaluable  port  of  Malta;  so  as 
to  exclude  us  from  a  sea,  which  it  had  ever  be- 
fore been  the  anxious  policy  of  Great-Britain 
to  keep  in  her  hands, — and  to  render  It  now, 
truly  and  properly,  what  it  was  once  idly  called, 
the  Sea  of  France, 

i  In  die  West-Indies, — St.  Domingo,f  both 
tiie  French  and  Spanish  parts,  Martinico,  St. 
Lucie,  Guadaloupe,  Tobagq,  Curaco. 

In  North  America, — St.  Pierre  and  MI- 
quclon,  widi  a  right  to  the  fisheries  in  the  fullest 
extent  to  which  they  were  ever  claimed;  Loui- 

C  siana, 

— ■ '  \ 

*  See  Appendix  D. 
f  See  Appendix  E. 


■"1 


\ 


m 


) 


1 


\ 


^v 


i\ 


*  See  Appendix  C. 


/••■ 


)l 


18 

siana,  (so  it  is  supposed,)  *^  a  word  dreadful  to  be 
pronounced,  to  all  who  consider  the  conse- 
quences with  which  that  cession  is  pregnant, 
whether  as  it  acts  northward,  by  its  eftects  upon 
the  United  States,  or  southward,  as  opening  a 
direct  passage  into  the  Spanish  settlements  in 
America. 

In  South  America, — Surinam,  Demerary, 
Berbice,  Essequibo,  taken  by  us  and  now 
ceded; — Guiana,  and  by  the  effect  of  the 
Treaty,  fraudulently  signed  by  France  with 
Portugal,  j\ist  before  the  signature  of  these  Pre- 
liminaries, a  tract  of  country  extending  to  the 
river  Amazon,  and  giving  to  France  the  com- 
mand of  the  entrance  into  that  river.  Whether, 
By  any  secret  article,  the  evils  of  this  cession 
will  prove  to. have  been  done  away,  time  will 
discover.f  In  fact,  (be  that  as  it  may,)  France 
may  be  said  to  possess  the  whole  of  the  Spanish 
and  Portuguese  setdemcnts  upon  that  Continent. 
For  who  shall  say,  that  she  has  not  the  com- 
mand oi'  those  setdemen ts,  when  she  has  the 
command  of  the  countries  to  which  they  be- 
long;—a^m  custodit  ipsos  ciistodes?  She  has,  in 

truth. 


i 


*  See  Appendix  F. 
t  See  Appen(iix  G. 


19 

truth,  whatever  part  of  the  Continent  of  South 
America  she  chooses  to  occupy;  and  as  far  as 
relates  to  the  Spanish  part,  without  even  the  ne- 
cessity, a  necessity  that  probably  would  not  cost 
her  much,  of  infringing  any  part  of  the  present 
Treaty. 

Such  is  the  grand  and  comprehensive  circle 
to  which  the  New  Roman  Empire  may  be  soon 
expected  to  spread,  now  that  Peace  has  removed 
all  obstacles;  and  opened  to  her  a  safe  and  easy 
passage  into  the  three  remaining  quarters  of  the 
globe.  Such  is  the  power,  which  we  are  re- 
quired to  contemplate  without  dismay !  under 
the  shade  of  whose  greatness  we  are  invited  to 
lie  down  with  perfect  tranquillity  and  com- 
posure !  I  should  be  glad  to  know,  what  our 
ancestors  would  have  diought  and  felt  in  this 
situation  ?  what  those  weak  and  deluded  men, 
so  inferior  to  the  politicians  of  the  present  day,* 
the  Marlboroughs,  the  Godolphins,  the  Somer?, 
the  King  Williams,  all  those  who  viewed  with 
such  apprehension  the  power  of  Louis  XIV. ; 
w^hat  diey  would  say  to  a  Peace,  which  not 
only  confirms  to  France  the  possession  of  nearly 
the  whole  of  Europe,  but  extends  her  empire 

C  2  over 

•  See  Appendix  H. 


i  ^1 


I 


'\-  c  \ 


pij 


20 

6ver  every  other  part  of  the  globe.  Is  there  a 
man  of  them,  who  would  not  turn  in  his  coffioi 
could  he  be  sensible  to  a  twentieth  part  of  that 
which  is  passing,  i8  perfect  matter  of  course, 
in  the  politicks  of  the  present  moment? 

But  to  all  these  mighty  dangers  we  have 
it  seems  one  great  security  to  op|>ose;  not  that 
degrading  and  bastard  security  to  whicli  I  have 
before  adverted,  and  to  which,  I  fear,  I  must  aeain 
recur, — that  France  is  lassata  \i  noi  sat  lata ;  that 
having  run  down  her  prey,  she  will  be  content 
to  spare  it,  and  be  willing  for  awhile  to  leave 
us  unmolested; — but  a  rational,  sober,  well- 
founded  s(*curity,  applicable  to  the  supposition 
that  she  may  not  be  wanting  in  die  will  to  hurt 
us,  but  will  happily  not  possess  the  power.  This 
great  security,  we  are  told,  is  our  wealth.  We 
are,  it  seems,  so  immensely  rich,  our  prosperity 
stands  on  so  sure  and  wide  a  basis,  we  have  such 
a  pyramid  of  gold,  so  beautifully  constructed, 
and  so  firmly  put  together,  that  we  may  safely 
let  in  all  the  world  to  do  their  worst  against  it; 
they  can  never  overturn  it,  and  might  spend 
ages  in  endeavouring  to  take  it  to  pieces.  We 
seem  to  consider  our  commercial  prosperity, 
like  those  articles  of  property,  timber,  marble, 
and  others  of  that  sort,  which,  however  valuable, 

may 


21 

may  be  safely  left  unguarded,  being  too  weighty 
and  bulky  to  be  carried  away. 

Sir,  the  first  circumstance  that  strikes  one 
in  tills  statement,  is,  that  odd  inconsistency,  by 
which  a  country  that  makes  Peace  on  account 
of  its  poverty,  is  to  rest  its  whole  hope  of  se- 
curity in  that  Peace,  upon  its  wealth.  If  our 
weakh  will  protect  us,  it  is  a  great  pity  that 
this  discoveiy  was  not  made  long  ago;  it  would 
have  saved  us  many  years  of  paintul  struggle; 
have  kept  in  our  hands  a  grcat  additional  por- 
tion of  these  very  means  of  protection ;  and  have 
lessened  considerably  die  dangers  against  which 
such  protection  is  wanted.  But  wealth,  I  fear, 
abstracted  from  certain  means  of  using  it,  carries 
with  it  no  powers  of  pi'otcctlon,  eitlier  for 
itself  or  others.  Riches  are  strength,  in  the  same 
manner  only  as  they  are  food.  They  may  be 
the  means  of  procuring  both.  But  we  shall  fall 
into  as  great  a  folly,  as  in  the  fabk  of  Midas, 
if  we  suppose  tliat  when  we  have  laid  down 
our  arms,  and  surrendered  our  fortresses,  our 
^^ealth,  alone,  can  afford  us  any  protection.  I 
cannot  therefore,  for  my  own  part,  understand 
what  is  meant  by  this,  unless  it  be,  that  by  su- 
periority of  capital,  and  priority  of  market,  of 
which  I  allow  the  ellects  to  be  immense,    we 

might, 


'  I 


:/i 


i  ii 


\   4 


ni 


i  ;■ 


'M 


.'  •'^■.1 


'i  ( 


22 

• 

might,  if  things  were  left  to  themselves,  in  a 
fair  competition,  in  a  fair  race,  still  keep  a-head 
of  our  com{)etitors,  in  spite  of  all  the  multiplied 
advantages    which   France    will   now   possess. 
This  might  be  so;  though  it  is  by  no  means  clear 
that  it  would.     But  the  competition  will  not 
be  left  to  its  natural  course.*     This  game  will 
not  be  fairly  played.     Buonapart6  is  a  player, 
who,  if  the  game  is  going  against  him,  will  be 
apt  to  pick  a  quarrel,  and  ask  us,  if  we   can 
draw  our  swords. — And  here,  perhaps,  it  is  time 
to  remark  the  singular  fallacy,  which  has  run 
through  iiU  the  re^onings  of  Gentlemen  on  the 
other  side;  that,  namely,  of  supposing  that  in 
discussing  the  present  question,  the  Peace,  such 
as  it  is,  is  the  state  which  is  to  be  contrasted  with 
the  continuance  of  the  War. — They  forget,  or 
choose   that  we  should  forget,  that  this  Peace 
may,  at  any  moment,  at  the  mere  pleasure  of 
the  enemy,  be    converted   into  a  new   War; 
differing  only   from  the  other,  by  the  ground 
which  we  in  the   mean-while  shall  have  lost, 
and  the  numerous  advantages  which  the  enemy 
will  have  acquired.    There  is  notthe  least  reason 
why  this  Treaty,  if  the  enemy  should  so  please, 

should 


*  See  Appendix  I. 


23 


should  be  any  thing  more  than  a  mere  piece  of 
legerdemain,  by  which  they  shall  have  got 
^possession  oT  Malta,  have  established  themselves 
in  all  their  new  colonies,  have  perhaps  re- 
entered Egypt,  have  received  back  twenty  or 
thirty  thousand  seamen,  and  have  otherwise  put 
themselves  into  a  situation  to  recommence  the 
War,  with  new  and  decisive  advantages.  If 
they  do  not  immediately  take  this  course,  it 
will  be,  simply,  because  they  will  hope  to 
succeed  as  well  without  it;  or,  because  they 
choose  to  defer  it  till  a  more  convenient  oppor- 
tunity: the  means  will,  at  every  moment,  be 
in  their  power. 

Two  suppositions  are,  therefore,  always 
to  be  made,  and  two  comparisons  to  be  insti- 
tuted, when  we  talk  of  the  merits  of  this 
Peace  :  1st.  That  the  enemy  will  choose  to  ad- 
here to  it,  or,  ildly,  that  they  will  break  it : 
and  the  two  comparisons  to  be  formed  in  conse- 
quence are,  1st.  The  comparison  between  z 
continuation  of  the  War  and  a  state  of  Peace, 
such  as  Peace  will  be  under  the  present  Treaty ; 
and  2dly,  a  comparison  of  the  War,  so  con- 
tinued, with  such  a  War  as  France  may  revive 
at  any  moment  after  the  present  Treaty  shall 
have  taken  effect. 

What 


f, 


i 


f 


14,1 


r 


I  \ 


i' 


•  ,  \- 


i  i 


^'1 


S4> 

What  the  condition  and   feelings  of  the 
country  would  be,  in  this  latter  case,  namely 
that  of  a  renewed  War,  I  need  hardly  point 
out.   The  dread  in  fact  of  what  they  would  be, 
will  operate  so  strongly,  that  the  case  will  never 
happen.     The  country  will  never  bear  to  put 
itself  in  a  situation,  in  which  the  sense  of  its 
own  folly  will  press  upon  it  in  a  way  so  impossi- 
ble to  be  endured.  At  all  events,  with  its  present 
feelings  and  opinions,  the  country  never  can 
go  to  Wnr  again,  let  France  do  what  she  will : 
for,  if  we  axe  of  opinion,  that  War,  continued 
•I  present,  must  be  ruin  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years,  what  do  we  suppose  it  must  be,  when,  to 
replace  us,  where  we  now  are,  we  must  begin 
hv  ^he  recovery  of  that  list  of  places,  which  the 
present  treaty  has  given  up  ?  France,  therefore, 
vvHl  be  under  no  necessity  of  going  to  War  with 
us;  and  nothing  "but   her  own    Intemperance 
and  insolence,,  and  an  opinion  of  our  endurance 
and  weakness,  beyond  even  what  they  may  be 
I  un  i  to  He^erve,  can  force  upon  us  that  ex- 
I    r  I  :v.     She  has  much  surer  and  safer  means 
of  going  to  work,  means,  at  the  same  time, 
sufficiently  quick  in  their  operation  to  satisfy 
any  ordinary   ambition :— she  has  nothing  to 
do  but   to  trust   to  the  progress  of  her  own 

^  power 


25 

power  in  Peace,  quickened,  as   often  as  she 
shall  see  occasion,  by  a  smart  threat  of  War.     1 
cannot  conceive  the  object,  which  a  judicious 
application  of  these  two  means  is  not  calculated 
to  obtain.     A  Peace,  such  as  France  has  now 
made,  mixed  with  proper  proportions  of  a  sea- 
sonable  menace  of  war,  is  a  specifick,  for  the 
undoing  of  a  rival  country,  which  seems  to  me 
impossible   to  fail.— Let  us  try  it  in  detail.— 
Suppose  France,  by  an  arrangement  with  that 
independent    power,  Spain,  similar    to    the    ar- 
rangement which,  In  violation  of  the  treaty  of 
Utrecht,  produced  the  surrender  of  Louisiana, 
and  of  the  Spanish  half  of  St.  Domingo,*  should 
obtain  the  cession  (which  would  be  in  violation 
of  no  treaty,)  of  all  the  Spanish  settlements  in 
America  :  would  you  consider  that  as  an  occa- 
sion of  war  ?  Suppose   Portugal,  the  integrity 
of  whose   possessions  is  in  some  sense  or  other 
guaranteed  to  her,  but  who   is  not  prevented, 
1  presume,  by  that  guaranty  from  parting  with 
anv  of  them  that  she  pleases,  should  choose,  in 
kindness  to  France,  to  make  over  to  her  any  ot 
those  settlements  which  she,  Portugal,  still  re- 
tains,_would  that,  again,  be  a  cause  of  war-? 
By  these  two  ways,  without  the   iniraction  of 


*  See  Appendix     K. 

D 


any 


\  y 


'.<.' 


'* 


f 


% 


J 


. '  k\ 


\   I 


„»i»»n*^" 


^dZZST- 1..;.- 


">«~*"W'' 


r  ,* 


27 


construed  to  be  an  aggression,  much  less  wliicli 
we  should  be  inclined  to  treat  as  sucli,  might 
France  render  herself  completely  mistress  of 
the  Continent  of  South  America.  Is  there  any 
commercial  claim,  then,  that  France  could  set 
up,  any  commercial  regulation  which  she 
could  introduce,  eidier  in  her  own  name,  or 
that  of  her  allies,  of  a  nature  the  most  injurious 
and  fatal  to  our  commerce,  which  we  should 
make  a  case  of  resistance,  and  diink  of  maani- 
tude  enough  to  involve  die  nation  in  another 
war? — The  augmentation  of  her  marine,  to 
which  professedly  she  means  to  direct  all  her 
eflbrts,  and  the  increase  of  her  establishments 
to  any  amount  that  she  pleases ;  these  are  ob- 
jects  which  it  would  be  perfectly  ridiculous  to 
talk  of,  or  to  suppose  that  we  should  make  the 
subject  even  of  the  most  friendly  remonstrance. 
Indeed,  according  to  the  modern  doctrines  of 
not  interfering  in  the  internal  concerns  of  ano- 
ther country,  I  do  not  understand  upon  what 
pretence  the  armament  of  a  state  can  ever  be- 
come a  subject  of  representation,  since  nothing 
surely  is  so  completely  an  internal  concern,  as 
what  any  nation  does  with  its  own  military  or 
naval  forces,  upon  its  own  soil,  or  in  its  own 
liarbours.  But  setting  aside  these  smaller  ob- 
jects. 


jects,  suppose  France  was  to  rc-invacle  Egypt ; 
was,  without  waiting  even  for  the  form  of  a 
surrender  from  the  Order,  to  ta;ke  forcible  pos- 
session of  Malta  ;  was  to  land  a  body  of  troops 
in  Greece,  and  either  in  that  way,  or  by  suc- 
cours  to  Paswan  Oglow,  was  to  overset   the 
government  of  the  Porte ;— would  you  be  able, 
on  any  of  these  occasions,  to  satisfy  those  by 
whose  opinions  it  is  now  the  fashion  to  guide 
the  counsels  of  states,  that  an  interest  existed 
sufficiently  strong  to  call  for  the  interference  of 
this  country,  to  prevent   the  mischief,  much 
less  to  redress  and  vindicate  it  when  done  ?  Why, 
Sir,    we  know   that   in   the  present    state    of 
opinions  and  feelings,  and  upon  the  principles 
on  which  the  present  Peace  has  been  made, 
not  only  no  one,  but  hardly  all  of  these  put 
together,  would  drag  the  country  into  a  renewal 
of  hostilities,  thougli,  as  is  evident,  its  very  ex- 
istence  might  depend  upon    it.     The  conse- 
quence is,  that   France   is  our  mistress;    that 
there  is  nothing  she  can  ask,  which  she  must 
not  have ;  (she  has  only  to  threaten  war,  and 
her  work  is  done;)— that  all  the  objects  of  in- 
terest and  ambition  which  France  can  have  in 
view,  lie  open  before  her,  to  be  taken  posses- 
sion of  whenever  she  pleases,  and   without  a 


D  2 


struggle : 


*u 


fi 


:   I 


II 


28 

any  treaty,  without  any  act  which  could  be 
struggle:  her  estabhshnients  will  accumulate 
roui:d  us  till  we  shall  be  lost  and  buried  in 
them ;  her  power  will  grow  over  us,  till,  like 
the  figures  in  some  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses, 
we  shall  find  all  our  l^culties  of  life  and  motion 
gradually  failing  and  deserting  us : 

Torpor  gravis  aWgat  art  us; 

MolUa  cinguntur  tenui  pra:cordia  libra. 

If,  in  this  last  extremity,  we  should  make  anv 
desperate  eftbrts  and  plunges,  that  might 
threaten  to  become  troublesome,  apd  give  us  a 
chance  of  extricating  ourselves,  she  will  call  in 
the  aid  of  her  arms,  and  \\  ith  one  blow  put  an 
end  at  once  to  our  suflering>,  and  our  ex- 
istence. 

Sir,  are  these  idle  dreams,  die  phantoms 
of  my  own  disordered  imagination  ?  or  are  thev 
real  and  serious  dangers,  the  existence  of  wliich 
no  man  of  common  sense,  let  his  opinions  of 
the  Peace  be  what  tkey  may,  will  attempt  to 
deny  ?  The  utmost  that  any  man  will  pretend 
to  say,  is,  that  he  hopes,  (and  so  do  I)  that 
tlic  evils  apprehended  will  not  happen  ;  and 
that,  great  as  the  risk  may  be,  he  thinks  it 
preferable  to  those  risks,  which  would  aitend  a 
continuation  of  the  War.  None  but  the  most 
weak  or  inconsiderate,  if  they  are  not  disaf- 
fected/ 


29 


If] 


fected,  or  absorbed  and  lost  in  the  sense  of  some 
immediate  personal  interest,  will  feel,  when 
tJiey  shall  well  understand  the  subject,  that 
there   is  any  cause  of  joy  or  rejoicing. 

Here  it  is  then,  that  I  must  advert  again 
to  that  topick  of  consolation,  (miserable  indeed 
must  our  state  be,  when  such  are  our  topicks 
of  consolation,)  to  which,  in  order  to  make  out 
a  case  not  perfectly  hopeless,  we  are  willing  to 
have  recourse  and  which,  more  I  believe  than 
any  reliance  upon  our  wealth,  does  really  sup- 
port us,  in  the   situation  to  which  we  are  re- 
duced.    This  is  the  idea,  diat  from  some  cause 
or  other,    from  some  combination  of  passions 
and   events,— such  as   no  philosophy  can  ex- 
plain, and  no  history  probably  furnish  an  exam- 
ple of,— the  progress  of  the  Revolution  \^'ill  stop 
where    it  is:  and   diat   Buonaparte,  like   ano- 
ther   Pyrrhus,— or  rather  like  that  adviser  of 
Pyrrhus,  whose  advice  \^  as  7iot  taken, — instead 
of  proceeding  to  the  conquest  of  new  worlds, 
will  be  willing  to  sit  down  contented  in  the  en- 
joyment of  those  which  he  has  already. 

Sir,  the  great  objecdon    to  this  hope,  to 
say  nodiing  of  its  baseness,  is  its  utter  extrava- 
gance.    On  what  possible  ground  do  we  be- 
lieve this  ?  Is  it  in  the  general  neiture  of  ambi- 
tion r 


r 


i 


B 


H 


I 


h 


so 

tlon?  Is  it  in  the  nature  of  French  ambition? 
Is  it  in  the  nature  of  French  revolutionary  am- 
bition?  Does  it  happen   commonly  to  those, 
wliether  nations  or  individuals,  who  are  seized 
v^ith  the  spirit  of  aggrandizement  and  acquisi- 
tion, that  they  are  inclined  rather  to  count  what 
they  possess,  than  to  look  forward  to  wliat  yet 
remains  to  be  acquired  ?  If   w^e  examine  the 
French  Revolution,  and  trace  it  correctly  to 
its  causes,  we  shall  find  that  the  scheme  of  uni- 
versal  empire   was,  from  the  beginning,  that 
which  was  looked  to  as  the  real  consummation 
of  its  labours ;  the  object  first  in  view,  though 
last  to  be  accomplished;  the primum  mobile  ih^i 
originally  set  it  in  motion,  and  has  since  guided 
and  governed  all  its  movements. 

The  authors  of  the  Revolution  wished  to 
destroy  morality  and  religion.  They  wished  those 
things  as  ends :  but  they  wished  them  also,  as 
means,  in  a  higher  and  more  extensive  design. 
They  wished  for  a  double  empire;  an  empire 
of  opinion  and  an   empire  of  .political  power  : 
and  they  used  the  one  of  these,  as  a  means  of 
effecting  the  other.     What  reason  have  we  to 
suppose,  that  they  have   renounced  those  de- 
signs, just  when  they  seem  to  touch  the  mo- 
meat  of  their  highest  and  fullest  accomplish- 
ment ? 


31 


ment?  AVhen  there  is  but  one  country,  that 
remains  between  France  and  the  empire  of  the 
w^orld,  then  is  the  moment,  when  we  choose 
to  suppose  that  all  opposition  may  be  withdrawn, 
and  that  the  ambition  of  France  will  stop  of  its 
own   accord. — It  is  impossible  not  to   see  in 
these  feeble  and  sickly  imaginations,  that  fatal 
temper  of  mind,  which  leads  men  to  look  for 
help  and  comfort  from  any  source  rather  than 
from  their  own  exertions.     We  are  become  of 
a  sudden  great  hopers.    We  hope  the  French  will 
have  no  inclination  to  hurt  us; — we  hope,  now 
Peace  is  come,  and  the  pressure  of  War,  as  it  is 
called,   taken  ofi',  that  the  French  Empire  will 
become  a  prey  to  dissensions,  and  finally  fall 
to    pieces ; — we  hope,  that  the  danger  to  have 
been    apprehended    from  the  example  of  the 
Revolution,  is  now  worn  out;  and  that  Buona- 
parte, being  now  monarch  himself,  wall  join 
with  us  in  the  support  of  monarchical  principles, 
and  become  a  sort  of  collateral  security  for  the 
British  constitution.     One  has  heard  to  be  sure, 
that  magni  animi  est  scpare;  but  the  maxim,  to 
have  any  truth  in  it,  must  be  confined,  I  appre- 
hend, to  those  hopes  which  are  to  be  prose- 
cuted through  the  medium  of  men's  ow^n  exer- 
tions, and  not  be  extended  to  those,  which  are 

to 


m- 1 


v\ 


11 


32 

to  be  independent  of  their  exertions,  or  ratlier, 
as  in  tlie  present  instance,  arc  meant  to  stand  In 
lieu  of  them. 

Of  this  description  are  all  those  expecta- 
tions which  I  have  just  enumerated;  one  of 
which  is,  that  the  French  will  fall  into  dissen- 
sions.— Why,  Sir,  they  have  had  nothing  else 
but  dissensions  from  the    begiiiuing.     But   of 
what  avail  have  such   dissensions  been  to  the 
safety  of  other  countries  ?     One  of  their  first 
dissensions  was  a  war  of  three  years,  called  the 
war    of  La  Vendee;  in    which,   according  to 
some  of  their  calculations,  the  Republick  lost, 
between    the    tw^o    sides,  to    the    number  of 
600,000  souls.     This  was  surely  pretty  well,  in 
the  way  of  dissension.     Yet  when  did  this  in- 
terrupt for  a  moment,  even  if  it  might  in  some 
degTce    have   relaxed,  the  operations    of  their 
annies  on  the  Irontiers,  and  the  prosecution  of 
their  plans  for  the  overthrow  of  other  countries? 
As  for  changes  of  government,  they  have  been 
in  a  continued  course  of  them.     Since  die  be- 
ginning of  the  Revolution,  the  government  has 
been  overturned  at  least  half  a   dozen   times. 
They  have  turned  over  in  the  air,  as  in  sport, 
Kke  tumbler-pigeons ; — but  have  they  ever  in 
consequence  ceased  their  flight  ?     The  internal 

state 


33 


state  of  the  country  has  been  in  the  most  violent 
commotion.  The  ship  has  been  in  mutiny ; — 
there  has  been  fighting  in  the  waist  and  on  die 
forecastle  ;— but  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion 
somebody  has  always  been  found  to  tend  the 
helm,  and  to  trim  the  sails ;  the  vessel  has  held 
her  course. — For  one,  therefore,  I  have  no 
great  confidence  in  the  effect  of  these  internal 
commotions ;  which  every  day  become  less 
and  less  likely,  in  proportion  as  the  power  of 
the  present  government  becomes  more  con- 
firmed, and  as  the  people  of  France  become 
more  and  more  bound  together  by  the  common 
feeling  of  national  glory,  and  by  the  desire  of 
consolidating  the  empire  which  they  have  seen 
established.  Such  commotions  may  undoubt- 
edly happen,  and  may  of  a  sudden,  when  it  is 
least  expected,  bring  about  some  change  fa- 
vourable to  tlie  world.  But  it  is  curious  to  hear 
'these  chances  grav-ely  brought  forward,  as  the 
best  foundation  of  our  hopes,  and  by  those  too, 
who  a  few  weeks  ago,  while  the  War  conti- 
nued, would  never  hear  of  them,  as  entering, 
at  all,  into  calculation.  It  seems,  that  the 
chapter  of  accidents,  as  it  is  called,  which 
could  do  nothing  for  us  in  War,  may  do  every 
thing  for  us  in   time   of  Peace.     \\'hereas    I 


L^ 


should 


Ij*^'*""*' 


3* 

should  have    thought  just  the  contrary;  that 
chances,  such  as  are  here  intended,  were  not 
only  more  likely  to  happen  in  war,  but,  what 
is  a  little  material,  might  then  be  better  im- 
proved and  turned  to   account.     While  War 
subsists,  while  armies  are  ready  to  act,  while 
confederacies  are  in  force,  while  intelligences 
are  going  on,  while  assistance  may  be  lawfully 
and  avowedly  given,  every  chance  of  this  sort 
may,    if  properly   improved,    lead    to    conse- 
quences the  most  decisive.     In  Peace,  all  that 
fortune  can  do  for  us,  falls  dead  and  still-born. 
Nobody  is  ready,  nobody  is  authorized  to  move 
a  step,  or  stretch   forth  a   hand,  to  rear  and 
foster  those  chances,  however  promising,  which 
time  and  accident  may  bring  forth.     It  is  not 
an  answer  to  say,  that  such  never  have  been 
improved.     In  regulating  plans  of  future  con- 
duct, we  must  consider  not  what  men   have 
done,  but  what  they  may  and  ought  to   do. 
The  only  rational  idea  that  I  could  ever  form 
of  resistance  to  that  power,  which  unresisted 
must  subdue  the  world,  was,  that  it  must  be  the 
joint  effect  of  an  internal  and  an  external  war, 
directed  to  the  same  end,  and  mutually  aiding 
and  supporting  eacH  other.   .  All  the  powers  of 
Europe  could   not  subdue  France,  if  France 

was 


35 

was  united;  or  force  upon  it  a  government, 
even  were  such  an  attempt  warrantable,  really 
in  opposition  to  the  wishes  of  the  people.  On 
the  other  hand,  no  internal  efforts,  unassisted 
by  force  from  without,  seemed  capable  of  res- 
cuing the  country  from  the  yoke  imposed  upon 
it,  so  long  as  the  several  factions  that  governed 
in  succession,  could  find  means  of  securitig  to 
themselves  the  support  of  the  armies.  We  are 
now  required  to  believe,  that  what  has  hitherto 
failed  to  be  performed  by  both  these  powers 
together,  is  to  be  effected  by  one  alone:  and 
that  with  respect  to  any  hope  of  a  change  of 
government  in  France,  the  War  that  has  been 
carrying  on  for  nine  years  has  proved  only  an 
impediment ! — Such  is  the  state  of  our  hopes 
and  opinions  on  that  side. 

But  we  have  another  hope,  founded  on 
rather  a  contrary  supposition,  namely,  that 
Buonapari.6,  now  that  he  is  a  King  himself — and 
a  King  he  is  so  far  as  power  can  make  one, — 
will  no  longer  be  an  encourager  of  those  absurd 
and  mischievous  doctrines,  which,  however 
they  may  have  helped  him  to  the  throne,  will 
be  as  little  pleasing  to  him,  now  that  he  is  fairly 
seated  there,  as  to  any  the  most  legitimate 
Monarch.     Sir,  I  agree,  that  Buonaparte,  like 

E  2  other 


/  A 


h 


36 

other  demagogues  and  friends  of  the  people, 
having  deluded  and  gulled  the  people  suffici- 
rndy  to  make  them  answer  his  purpose,  will 
be   rea  -y   enough  to  teach    tlieni  a  different 
lesson,  and  to  forbid  the  use  pf  that  language 
towards  himself,    which    he    had    before    in- 
structed them  in,  as  perfecdy  proper  towards 
others.     Never  was  there  any  one,  to  be  sure, 
who  used  less  management  in   that  respect,  or 
who  left  all  the  admirers  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution, within  and  without,— all  the  admirers 
c?f  it,  1  mean,  as  a  system  of  liberty,-'in  a  more 
whimsical  and  laughable  situation.     Every  opi- 
nion for  wliich  they  have  been  contending,  is 
now  completely  trodden  down,  and  trampled 
upon,  or  held   out  in   France  to   the  greatest 
possible  contempt  and  derision.     TJie  Honour- 
able Gentlemen  on  the  Opposition  Benches  have 
really  great  reason  to  complain  of  having  been 
^o  completely  left  in  the  lurch.     There  is  not 
even  a  decent  retreat  provided  lor  them. 

But  though  such  is  the  treatment,  which 
theprlnciplesof  *^  the  Rights  of  Man,"  and  of 
the**  Holy  Duty  of  Insurrection,"  meet  with 
in  France,  and  on  the  part  of  him  who  should 
he  their  natural  protector,  it  is  by  no  means  the 
^ame,  v/ith  respect  to  the  encouragement  which 

he 


37 

he  may  choose  to  give  them  in  other  countries. 
Though  they  use  none  of  these  goods  in  France 
for    home  consumption,    they  have  always  a 
large    assortment   by   them  ready  for  foreign 
markets.     Their  Jacobin  Orators  are  not  to  be 
looked  for  in  the  clubs  at  Paris,  but  in  the  clubs 
of  London.     There,  they  may  talk  of  cashieiing 
Kings,  with  other  language  of  that  sort :  but 
should  any  orator  more  flippant  than  the  rest 
choose  to  hold  forth  in  that  strain,  in  the  city 
where  the  Great  Consul  resides,  in  the   metro- 
polis  of  liberty,  he  would  soon  put   him   to 
silence,  in  the  way  that  we  see  adopted  in  the 
sign  of  the  Silent  AVoman.     Buonapart6,  being 
invested,  in  virtue  of  the  Rights  of  Man,  with 
despotick   power,    can  afford  to    sanction   the 
preaching  of  those  doctrines  in  other  countries, 
of  which  he  will  not  suffer  the  least  whisper  in 
his  own.     While  he  is  at  the  head  of  an  ab- 
solute  Monarchy  in  France,  he  may  be    the 
promoter  and   champion   of  Jacobin  insurrec- 
tions every  where  else.     The  abject  as  well  as 
wicked  nature  of  Jacobinism  in  this  country, 
which,  while  it  would  rebel  against  the  lawful 
authority  of  its  own  government,  is  willing  to 
enslave  itself  to  France,  finds  no  difficulty  of 
allowing  to  him  these  two  opposite  characters : 

and 


-.%».,•  ,.^^(«Mi%|^^«.'H«^* 


I 


38 

and  I  know  no  reason  why  we  should  suppose 
him  disinclined  to  accept  them. 

I   must   confess,  therefore,  that  I  see  as 
little  hope  for  us  on  this  side,  as  I  do  on  the 
other.     In  fact,  if  I  could  believe,  in  spite  of 
all  probability,  that  there  was  any  remission  of 
that  purpose,  which  has  never  yet  ceased  for  an 
instant,— the  purpose  of  destroying  this  coun- 
try,—such  bcUef,  however  produced,  must  be 
instantly  done  2i\vvif  by  a  view  of  the  conduct 
of  France,  in  the  settlement  of  this  very  treaty. 
There  is  not  a  line  of  it,  that  does  not  either 
directly  point  to  the  destruction  of  this  country, 
or,  by  a  course  a  little  circuitous,  but  not  less 
certain,  equally  tend  to  the  same  object.   What 
can  France  want  with  any  of  the   possessions 
which  she  has  compelled  us  to  surrender,  but 
with  a  view  of  rivalling  our  power,  or  of  sub- 
verting it,  or  of  removing  out  of  our  hands  the 
means  of  controuUing  her  further  projects  of  am- 
bition ?— Of  the  first  sort  are  all  her  stipulations 
for  settlements  in  South  America  and  the  West- 
Indies  :    of  the    second,   her   demand    of  the 
Cape  and   Cochin ;  and  of  the  last,  that  most 
marked  and  disgraceful  condition  on  our  part, 
the  surrender    of   Malta.     AVhat    upon   earth 
could  France  have  to  do  with  Malta,  but  either 
6  as 


39 

as  a  means  of  humbling  us  In  the  eyes  of  all  the 
world,  by  tlie  surrender  of  it,  or  of  depriving 
us  of  a  port  in  the  Mediterranean,  that  might 
stand  in  the  way  of  designs  which  she  is  medi- 
tating against  the  countries  bordering  upon  that 
sea  ?  1  he  miserable  pretexts  which  are  formed 
to  palliate  this  surrender,  and  the  attempt  to 
cover  it,  in  part,  by  the  show  of  delivering 
that  fortress  to  the  Order,  though  much  the 
greater  part  of  the  Order  are  now  living  in  the 
dominions  of  Buonapart6,  and  many  of  them 
actually  serving  in  his  armies,  are  wholly  in- 
sufficient, either  to  conceal  our  shame,  or  to 
disguise  the  purpose  of  the  French  in  making 
this  demand.  But  the  circumstances  of  the 
negotiation,  not  less  than  the  treaty  resulting 
from  it,  shew,  in  another  way,  the  folly  of 
those  hopes,  which  are  founded  upon  the  sup- 
posed intentions  or  characters  of  the  persons 
with  whom  it  is  made.  It  does  not  augur  very 
favourably  for  the  intentions  of  a  party  in  any 
transaction,  that  there  appear  in  every  stage  of 
it  the  clearest  proofs  of  duplicity  and  fraud. — 
What  do  we  think  of  the  artifice,  which  signs  a 
treaty  with  us,  guaranteeing  the  integrity  of 
Portugal;  but  previously  to  that,  at  a  period  so 

late. 


.^ -v. 


V     X 


40 

late,  as  to  make  it  sure  that  the  knowledge  of 
tiiu  transaction  shall  not  reach  this  country  In 
time,  signs  another  treaty,  totally  altering  the 

nnturr  ^)i'  thai  -imranty?     What  shall  \\c  liiiiik 
of  the  caiuiuar  and  fairness,  wh'cli  hi  a  treaty 
with  us,  proposes,    as  a  joint  stipulati  r,  the 
e\a(  uiu  II  of  Eir^pt,  at  a  time  when  the  pro- 
poser^ kne-v,   though  we  did  not,   that  e\i  ry 
soklit/r  oilhnv-  \n  L-vpt  was  actually  a  prisoner 
to  our  troops?     Where  was  their  gooii  i  ajJi  to 
the  Turk=.  vA'wn,  m  the  same  rirnimctanccs, 
tht  V  kri   A  uig  the  fact  and  the  Turks  not,  they 
took  credit  li   iii  ikc  Turks  for  thisvirv  evacua- 
^: .,.  5     Wliv.  Sir,  it  is  a  frand  upon  a  level  wiili 
any  ui  those  practised  at  a  lottery-office.     They 
insure  the  ticket,  at   the  moment  when  they 
know  it  to  be  draWn.     And  are  these  the  peo- 
ple, to  whose   generosity  and  forbearance,  to 
whose  good    intentions   towards  this    country, 
an  1  above  all,  to  whose  good  laith,  we  are  to 
deliver  over,  bound  hand  and  foot,  the  interests 
of  the  British  Empire,  to  be  destroyed  or  saved, 
as  they,     in    their  good  pleasure,  shall  think 

fit? 

I  say  nothing  here  on  a  topick.  however 
closely  connected  with  the  present  subject,  the 

character 


41 

character  of  the  First  Consul  himself  *— a  cha- 
racter hitherto  as  much  marked  by  frauds  of 
the  most  disgraceful  kind,  as  by  every  other 
species  of  guilt ;  but  pass  on  to  the  question, 
which  meets  us  at  every  turn,  and  seems  to 
stop  the  progress  of  all  argument,  the  great 
question—^*  AVhat  are  we  to  do  ?  The  danger 
"  is  great,  but  how  are  we  to  avoid  it  ?  AVar 
''  cannot  be  eternal,  and  w^hat  prospect  Imve 
«  we  of  reaching  a  period,  when  it  may  be 
''  terminated  in  circumstances  upon  the  whole 
"  more  favourable  than  the  present  ?*'  f 

Sir,  the  word,  eternal,  which  in  any  use 
of  it  is  sufficiently  awful,  will  undoubtedly  not 
be  least  so,  when  associated  with  the  idea  of 
War.  But  I  must  beg  leave  to  remind  the  House 
of  a  circumstance,  of  which  they  and  the 
country  seem  never  to  have  been  at  all  aware, 
that  the  question  of  eternal  War,  is  one,  which 
it  is  not  left  for  us  to  decide.  It  is  a  question 
which  must  be  asked  of  our  enemies :  and  is 
not  less  proper  to  be  asked,  if  we  could  hope 
that  they  would  answer  us  at  the  present  mo- 
ment, than  it  w^as  before  the  signature  of  the 

F  prelimi- 


1 


Jk 


See  Appendix  L.  f  See  Appendix  M. 


\i 


i 

9 


J| 


42 

preliminaries.  The  War  depends  neither  upon 
conventions  to  be  entered  into  between  the  two 
governments,  nor  upon  acts  of  hostility  which 
may  be  committed  between  the  two  people,  by 
land  or  on  the  high  seas;  but  on  the  existence 
or  non-existence  of  that  fixed,  rooted,  deter- 
mined purpose,  which  France  has  hitherto  had, 
and  which  we  liave  no  reason  whatever  to 
think  she  has  relinquished — of  accompHshing 
the  final  overthrow  of  this  country.  While  that 
purpose  exists,  and  shall  be  acted  upon,  we  are 
at  War,  call  our  state  by  what  name  you  please  : 
and  the  only  question  is,  whether  France  can- 
not work  as  effectually  to  her  purpose  in  Peace ; 
and  if  Peace  is  made  in  a  certain  way,  infinitely 
more  effectual  than  she  can  in  what  is  profes- 
sedly and  declaredly  War.  I  would  really  wish 
to  ask,  whether  Gentlemen  have  never  heard  of 
a  people  called  the  Romans,  a  set  of  repub- 
licans who  conquered  the  world  in  the  old 
time  ;  and  whom  the  modern  Romans  take  as 
their  model  in  every  respect,  but  in  none  more 
than  in  what  relates  to  the  overdirow  of  this 
country  ?  Among  the  nations  that  fell  under 
the  Roman  yoke,  there  were  but  few  whom 
they  were  able  to  fetch  down  at  a  blow, — to 
reduce  in  the  course  of  a   single  A^'^ar.     All 

*  their 


A 


43 


vl 


their  greater  antagonists,  particularly  the  state 
whose  fate  is  chosen  as  a  prototype  of  our  own, 
were  not  reduced  till  after  repeated  attacks,  till 
after  several  successive  and  alternate  processes 
of  War  and  Peace  :  a  victorious  AVar  preparing 
the  way  for  an  advantageous  Peace  ;  and  an  ad- 
vantageous Peace  again  laying  the  foundation 
of  a  successful  War.  This  was  at  least  the  con- 
*  duct  of  a  great  people;  a  people  not  to  be  put 
aside  from  their  purposes  by  every  transient 
blast  of  fortune.  They  had  vowed  the  destruc- 
tion of  Carthage ;  and  they  never  rested  from 
their  design,  till  they  had  seen  it  finally  accom- 
plished. The  emulators  of  their  fortune  in  the 
present  day,  are,  in  no  less  a  degree,  the  emu- 
lators of  dieir  virtues ;  at  least  of  those  qualides, 
whatever  they  may  be,  that  give  to  man  a  com- 
mand over  his  fellows.  When  I  look  at  tiie 
conduct  of  the  French  Revolutionary  rulers,  as 
compared  with  that  of  their  opponents ;  when 
I  see  the  grandeur  of  their  designs;  the  wisdom 
of  their  plans ;  the  steadiness  of  their  execution  ; 
their  boldness  in  acting ;  their  constancy  in  en- 
during; their  contempt  of  all  small  obstacles 
and  temporary  embarrassments ;  their  inflexible 
determination  to  perform  such  and  such  things ; 
and  the  powers  which  they  liave  displayed,  in 

r  2  acting 


44 


I 


i 

1 


acting  up  to  that  determination ;  when  I  con* 
trast  these  with  the  narrow  views,  the  paltry  in- 
terests, the  occasional  expedients,  the  desultory 
wavering  conduct,  tlie  want  of  all  right  feeling 
and  jubi  conception,  that  characterize  so  gencr 
rally  the  governments  and  nations  opposed  to 
tlicin,  I  ronfess  I  sink  down  in  despondency, 
anci  am  Luii  to  admit,  that  if  they  shall  have 
conqurrcd  the  world,  it  will  be  by  qualities  by 
w  liicli  liu  y  ill  serve  to  conquer  it.  Never  were 
there  persons,  who  could  shew  a  fairer  title  to 
the  iiilieritance  which  they  claim.  The  great 
uii  ui  iiuiiikind  made  by  a  celebrated  phi- 


41  !\1- 


losopher  of  old,  into  those  who  were  formed  to 
c^o^'ern.  riic!  those  who  were  born  only  to  obey, 
v\  a-  n  tvLi  mure  strongly  exeuiplihcd  dian  by  the 
French  nation,  ii-  1  those  who  have  sunk,  or 
an  Ml!  11-,  under  their  yoke.  Let  us  not  sup- 
pose, therefore,  that  while  these  qualities,  con> 
bined  with  these  purposes,  shall  continue  to 
exist,  they  will  ever  cease,  by  niglit  or  by  day, 
in  Peace  or  in  War,  to  work  their  natural  effect, 
—  tO  gravitate  towards  their  proper  centre;  or 
that  the  bold,  the  proud,  the  dignified,  the  de- 
termined, those  who  icill  great  things,  and  will 
stake  their  existence  upon  the  accomplishment 
pf  vvhat  they  have  willed,  shall  not  finally  pre- 
vail 


^ 


45 


vail  over  those,  who  act  upon  the  very  opposite 
feelings ;  who  will  ^^  never  push  their  iesbtaiice 
beyond  their  convenience;*'  who  ask  for  no- 
thing but  ease  and  safety;  who  look  only  to 
sta\ve  off  the  evil  for  the  present  day,  and  will 
take  no  heed  of  what  may  befal  them  on  the 
morrow.  We  are  therefore,  in  effect,  at  War 
at  this  moment:  and  the  only  questiun  ib, 
whether  the  War,  that  will  liencefoi  w  ai  c!  Dro- 
ceed  under  the  name  of  Peace,  is  likely  to  prove 
less  operative  and  fatal,  than  that  which  has 
liitlierto  appeared  in  its  natural  anci  ordinary 
shape.  That  such  is  our  state,  is  confessed  by 
the  authors  themselves  of  the  present  Treaty, 
in  the  measures  which  they  feel  it  necessary  to 
recommend  to  die  House.  When  did  we  ever 
hear  before  of  a  military  establishment  neces- 
sary to  be  kept  up  in  time  of  Peace  ?  The 
fact  is,  that  we  know  that  we  are  not  at  Peace ; 
not  such  as  is  fit  to  be  so  called,  nor  that  in 
which  we  might  hope  to  sit  down,  for  some 
time  at  least,  in  confidence  and  security,  in  the 
free  and  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  the  blessings 
which  we  possess.  We  are  in  that  state,  in 
which  the  majority,  I  believe,  of  those  who 
hear  me,  are  in  their  hearts  more  desirous  that 
we  should  be,  than,  in  our  present  prostrate  and 

defcnce- 


r\ 


;!' 


i   1 


4(3 

delenceless  situation,  they  may  think  It  prudent 
to  avow— ^in  a  state  of  armed  truce ;  and  then 
the  only  questions  will  be,  at  what  price  we 
purchase  diis  truce  ;  what  our  condition  will  be 
while  it  lasts ;  and  in  what  state  it  is  likely  to 
leave  us,  should  it  terminate  otherwise  than  as 
we  are  willing  to  suppose. 

.  This  brings  us  at  once  to  die  point.  If 
we  are  to  come  at  last  only  to  an  armed  truce, 
would  it  not  have  been  a  shorter  and  better 
coui-se,  to  turn  our  War  into  an  armed  truce, 
into  which  in  fact  it  had  pretty  much  turned 
itself,  rather  than  to  take  the  roinid  about  way 
which  lias  been  now  adopted,  of  making  Peace 
by  the  sacrihce  of  all  the  means  of  future  AVar, 
in  order  afterwards  to  form  an  armed  truce  out 
of  that  Peace  ?  Let  us  state  the  account,  and 
consider  the  loss  and  profit  on  either  side. 

The  evils  of  War  are,  generally  speakings 
to  be  comprized  under  three  heads :  the  loss  of 
Jives  and  the  consequent  atiliction  brought  upon 
friends  and  families ;  the  loss  of  money,  mean- 
ing, by  that,  money  expended  in  a  way  not  to 
be  beneficial  to  the  country  that  raises  it ;  and 
the  loss  of  money  in  another  sense,  that  is  to  say, 
money  not  got;  by  which  I  mean  the  Inter- 
ruption given  to   national   industry,    and   the 

diminution 


47 

diminution  of  the  productions  thence  arisin"-, 
either  by  the  number  of  hands  withdrawn  from 
useful  labour,  (which  is  probably  however  but 
little  material,)  or  by  the  embarrassments  and 
restraints  which  in  a  state  of  War  impede  and 
clog  the  operations  of  commerce.     I  do  not 
mean,  that  there  are  not  in  AVar,  evils  which  may 
be  said  not  to  be  included  properly  under  any 
of  the  above  heads ;  among  which  may  be  num- 
bered, the  distress  arising  Irom  sudden  chancres 
of  property,  even  when  the  persons  who  lose, 
and  those  who  acquire,  are  equally  parts  of  the 
same  community.     Tills,  however,    is  an  evil 
that  will  be  more  felt  at  the  beginning,  than  in 
the  later  periods  of  a  A^^ar  ;  and  will  in  fact  be 
likewise  felt,  though    in    a  less  degree,    by  a 
transition  even  from  AVar  to  Peace.     The  enu- 
meration, now  made,  however,  may  be  suffi- 
ciently correct  lor  the  present  purpose.     And, 
with  this  in  our  hands,  let  us  consider,  in  what 
so  very  violent  a  degree,  the  present   armed 
truce,  or  Peace,  if  you  choose  to   call  it  so, 
differs  from  what  might  have  been  our  state,  in 
the  case  so  much  dreaded  and  deprecated,  of 
a  continuation  of  the  AV^ar. 

To  take  the  last  first,  ~the  loss  of  national 
wealth  by  the  interruption  given  to  commerce 

and 


\ 


1 


3 


4a 

and   Industry ;  such  is  the  singular  nature  of 
this  War,  such  the  unexampled  consequences 
,vith  which  it  has  been  attended,  that  it  be- 
cumc   a  question,  and  one  in  itseh'of  the  most 
anxious  mid  critical  importance,  on  which  side 
ui  the  account  the  consequences  of  Peace  m 
this  respect  are  to  be  placed  :  whether,  instead 
ot  I)  ilinrifi-  the  dangers  of  Peace,  if  such  dierc 
arc,    b>    accessions  which  it  will  brin-  to  our 
wealth  and  commerce,  we  are  not  rather  called 
upon  to   prove  some  great  advantages  which 
Peace  v  *  '  give  us   in  respect  of  security,  in 
order  to  balance  the  diminution  likely  to  be 
piu  u     1  by  it  in  our  commercial  opulence. 
That  our  commerce  will  suffer  at  the  long  run, 
admits,  I  fear,  of  no  doubt.     If  my  apprehen- 
sions  are  just,  it  is  in  the  diminution  of  our  ma- 
nufactures and  commerce,  that  the  approaches 
of  our  ruin  will  first  be  felt ;  but  is  any  one 
prepared  to  say  that  this  may  not  happen  in 
the  first  instance  ?     We  have  it  present,  subject 
'    to   the  inconveniences  which  War  produces, 
nothing  less  than  the  commerce  of  the  whole 
world.     There  is  no  part  of  the  world  to  which 
our  goods  do  not  pass  freely  in  our  own  ships ; 
while  not  a  single   merchant     :   ,.  vvah  the 
enemy's  flag  on  board,  does  ;-  ^^-  moment 

swim 


1^ 


49 


swim  the  ocean.  Is  this  a  state  of  things  to  be 
lightly  hazarded  ?  Does  the  hope  of  bettering 
this  condition,  even  in  the  .minds  of  those  most 
sanguine,  so  much  outweigh  the  fear  of  in- 
juring it,  that  these  opposite  chances  can  upon 
the  whole  be  stated  otherwise  than  as  destroying 
each  other:  and  that  of  consequence.  In  the 
comparison  of  War  and  Peace,  the  prospect  of 
increased  industry  and  commerce,  which  ni 
general  tells  so  much  in  favour  of  Peace,  must 
not  here  be  struck  out  of  the  account  ?  On  this 
head  the  question  between  Peace  and  War 
stands,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  evenly  balanced. 

The  next  of  these  heads,  the  first,  indeed, 
in  point  of  consequence,  but  the  next  in  the 
order  in  which  it  is  here  convenient  to  consider 
them,  is  the  loss  of  lives,  and  the  effect  which 
War  is  likely  to  have  on  private  and  individual 
Jiappiness.  No  man  can  pretend  to  say,  that 
War  can  continue  upon  any  footing,  however 
restricted  the  circle  of  hostilities,  without  the 
lives  of  men  being  liable  to  be  sacrificed ;  and 
no  such  sacrifice  can  be  justified,  or  reconciled 
to  the  feelings  of  any  one,  but  by  thai  wliic  u 
must  justify  every  such  sacrifice,  however  great 
the  extent — the  safety  and  essential  interests  of 
the  State.     But  if  ever  there  was  a  War  In 

G  which 


f  \ 


\ 


IP 


> 


t 


1 


50 

which  such  sacrifices  seemed  likely  to  be  fe\r, 
not  as  an  effect  of  any  choice  of  ours,  but  by 
the  necessary  course  of  events,  it  was  that 
which  we  should  have  had  to  carry  on  in  future 
with  the  Republick  of  France, 

The  great  and   destructive   operations  of 
War,  the  conflict  of  fleets  or  armies,  or  the 
Gonsujnption  of  men  in  unwholesome  climates 
and  distant  expeditions,  had   ceased  of  them- 
selves.   I  know  not  what  expeditions  we  should 
have  had  to  prosecute,  unless  new  cases  should 
have  arisen,  similar  to  that  of  the  ever-memo- 
rable one  of  Egypt ;  where,  the  same  motives 
existing,  we  should  be  sorry  indeed  not  to  have 
the  means  of  acting  upon  them.    But  in  ge- 
neral, our  fleets  would  have  remained  quietly 
at  their  stations,  and  our  armies  have  lived  at 
home:    the  whole   question   reduces  itself  to 
a  mere  question   of  expense ;  and  that  agaifii 
picUy  much  to  a  mere  question   of  establish- 
nient. — The  great  heads  of  war  expenditure, 
the  army  extraordinaries,  would,  in  most  parts, 
have  ceased ;  and  in  the  rest,  have  been  great- 
ly reduced.     The  chief  question  w^ill   be,   not 
Ir  iween  an  ordinary  Peace  establishment  and 
a  AVar,    such    as,    from  circumstances,    ours 
has  hitherto  been,  involving  expeditions  to  all 

parts 


51 


parts  of  the  globe;  but  between  a  Peace  esta- 
blishment, such  as  that  which  is  now  declared 
to  be  necessary,  and  a  War,  which  had  become, 
and  was  likely  to  continue,  merely  defensive; 
in  which  we  should  have  had  nothing  to  do, 
but  to  maintain  a  competent  force,  with  little 
prospect  of  being  obliged   to   make  use  of  it 
The  advocates  for  the  present  Peace  must  find 
themselves  always  in  an  aukward  dilemina,  be- 
tween economy  and  safety.    We  make  Peace 
in  order  to  save  our  money:  if  we  reduce  our 
establishments,  what  becomes  of  our  security? 
if  we  keep  up  our  establishments,  what  bo 
comes  of  our  savings  ?     AVhatever  you  give  to 
one   object,    is    unavoidably  taken  from   the 
other.      The  savings   of    the    present    Peace, 
therefore,    can    be   looked  for  only  between 
the   narrow  limits   of   a  high   Peace    and    a 
low  War  estabHshment;    or,  to  state  the   case 
more   correctly,   between  a  high  Peace  esta^ 
blishment  and  a  War,  reduced  in  the  manner 
that  I  have  described.     I  wish   that  a  correct 
estimate  were  formed    of   the   difference,    in 
point  of  expense,    between  these  two  states; 
recollecting  always  that  among  the  expenses 
of  Peace  are  to  be  counted  the  provisions  ne- 
cessary against  the  new  dangers  brought  by  the 
Peace  itself;    the    new  dangers  for  example, 

G  ^  with 


I  !| 


-^     ■'l^*»ivw     !M«»»Wi?*'    " 


52 

with  which  Jamaica,  and  all  our  West-India 
Islands  are  threatened  by  the  establishment  of 
the  French  in  Saint  Domingo,  and  other  parts 
in  that  quarter  of  the  world :  the  new  dangers 
to  which  our  empire  in  the  East  is  exposed,  by 
the  re-entry  of  the  French  into  the  peninsula 
of  India,  and  the  cession  to  them,  for  such  in 
effect  it  is,  of  the  Cape  and  Cochin :   in  ge- 
neral, by  the  free  passage  now  given  to  their 
ships  and  armies  into  every  part  of  the  world, 
and  the  establishment  of  them  every  where  m 
the  neighbourhood  of  our  most  valuable  pos- 
sessions. 

Against  all  these  dangers  War  provided, 

as  it  were,  by  its  own  single  act.   The  existence 
of  our  fleets  upon  the  ocean,  with  an  Admiralty 
order    "  to  bum,  sink,  and  destroy,"  shut  up 
at  once,  as  under  lock  and  key,  all  those  at- 
tempts, .which  are  now  let  loose,  and  require 
^s  many  separate  defences  as  there  are  parts 
liable  to  be  attacked.     A  fleet  cruising  before 
Brest,  therefore,  was  not  to  be  considered  as  so 
much  clear  expense,  to  be  charged  to  the  ac- 
count of  the  War ;  without  deducting  the  ex- 
pence  of  additional  troops  and  additional  ships, 
which  the  absence  of  the  fleet  might  require 
to  be  kept,  for  instance  in  the  West-Indies. 


53 

With  respect  to  liome  defence.  Consider- 
ins  the  httle  reliance  to  be  placed  upon  the 
Government  in  France,  now  subsisting;  the 
still  greater  uncertainty  with  respect  to  any  fu- 
turc  Government  (such  as  may  arise  at  any 
moment) ;  and  the  increased  defence  necessary 
on  land,  in  proportion  to  the  diminution  of  our 
force  by  sea ;  1  know  not,  how  we  can  remain 
secure  with  a  military  establishment  much  less 
considerable,  than  that  which  we  should  hare 
had  to  maintain  here  in  the  case  of  War. — So 
much  for  the  expenses  of  Peace. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  must  consider,  v\  aat 
the  reductions  are  that  might  be  made  to  the 
expense  of  War,  beyond  those,  w^hich  the 
very  scheme  and  shape  of  the  War  itself  would 
unavoidably  produce. 

The  expenses  of  our  army,  as  at  present 
established,  are  excessive :  but  what  .should 
hinder  us  from  adopting  some  of  those  expe- 
dients, by  which  a  country  not  more  considf^r- 
able  than  Prussia,  under  the  regulations  intro- 
duced by  a  former  great  monarch,  is  made  c2h, 
pable  of  maintaining  a  military  establishment 
superior  to  that  of  GreatrBritain  :—  The  chiei 
pf  those  expedients,  and  that  which  we  could 
l>est  imitate,  is^  the  putting  at  all  timrs  the  half 

of 


:l 


'^i 


,.s 


I 


5+ 

of  the  army  upon  the  footing  of  militia,  to  be 
exercised  only  for  a  month  or  two,  and  to  be  at 
home  for  the  remainder  of  the  year.  Other 
expedients  might  be  suggested,  if  this  were  the 
proper  occasion  for  discussing  them. 

It  IS  true,  as  may  be  observed,  that  such  a 
reduction  of  expense,  if  it  can  be  at  all  effected, 
may  be  applied  not  less  in  time  of  Peace  than 
in  time  of  War ;  and  in  a  comparison,  there^ 
fore,  between  the  two,  must  be  counted  on  both 
sides.     But  that  circumstance,  as  is  plain,  docs 
not  do  away  the  effect  of  what  is  here  stated. 
If  both  sides  are  reduced,  and  reduced  at  all 
proportionably,  the  absolute  diff'ercnce,  which 
is  what  we  are  here  considering,  will  be  reduced 
also ;  not  to  mention  that,  w  ith  a  view  to  what 
will  be  the  effect  of  the  measure  in  other  ways, 
such  a  reduction  may  be   better  applied  to  a 
large  establishment,  than  it  can  to  a  small  one. 
Ifanarmy  of  80,000  men,  for  instance,  may, 
for  the  moment,  be  reduced  to  half,  because  the 
remaining  40,000  will  still  be  a  sufficient  force, 
it  is  not  to  be  concluded,  that  a  proportionate 
reduction  might  be  mad^  in  an   army  of  only 
half  that  number,  when  the  remainder,  left  on 
an  emergency  for  the  defence  of  the  country, 
^  -  uld   be   no    more    than   twenty   thousand. 

Consider, 


55 

Consider,  therefore,  when  the  reductions  capa- 
ble of  being  made,  or  certain  of  themselves  to 
happen,  in  a  state  of  AVar,  such  as  War  might  be 
expected  to  be  if  continued  from  the  present 
time,  and  when  the  new  and  extraordinary  ex- 
penses incident  to  this  Peace,  shall  have  been 
fairlv  calculated,  to  what  the  difference  between 

ml 

the  two  states  \\ill  amount;  and  taking  then 
this  difference  at  its  utmost,  compare  the  money 
so  saved,  with  all  the  evils  and  dangers  which 
Peace,  as  now  proposed,  will  give  rise  to  :  Or, 
if  the  modern  fashion  is  to  prevail,  and  money 
alone  to  be  considered,  compare  the  value  of 
the  Sinking  Fund  created  by  this  saving,  with 
the  ditTcrcnce,  in  point  of  mere  expense,  of 
the  circumstances  in  which  we  shall  be  placed 
at  the  commencement  of  any  future  War,  should 
France  chuse  to  put  us  under  this  necessity. 
By  the  result  of  these  comparisons,  must  the 
question  be  decided. 

Should  it  so  happen,  (and  wlio  shall  say, 
that  it  will  not  ?)  that  our  commerce,  instead  of 
increasing,  or  remaining  where  it  is,  should  fall 
off';  that  our  manufactures  should  decline ;  that, 
from  these  and  other  causes, — such  as  a  great 
emigration,  and  considerable  transfer  of  com- 
mercial property ; — and  above  all  from  die  great 

loss 


i 


i'  ■  / 


5^ 

loss  of  territorial  revenue,  the  income  of  the 
state  should  be  lessened,  to  a  degree  equal  only 
to  this  proposed  saving,  then  we  shall  have  in- 
curred all  the  dreadful  difference  to  be  found 
in  our  situation  in  case  of  the  renewal  of  A\'ar> 
and  all  the  no  less  serious  dangers  during  the 
continuance  of  Peace,  absolutely  for  nothing. 

I  select  this  only  as  the  case  which  may 
be  considered  as  the  most  probable.  In  argu- 
ment, to  be  sure,  having  already  agreed  to  take 
at  par,  our  prospects  with  respect  to  the  increase 
or  decrease  of  our  commerce  and  manufactures, 
I  am  not  at  liberty  to  insist  on  this  case,  or  upon 
the  still  more  fatal  one  of  a  greater  and  more 
extensive  decrease,  without  allowing  those  who 
argue  on  the  other  side,  to  avail  themselves  of 
tlie  supposition,  that  the  sources  of  national 
wealth  may  possibly  be  in  a  great  degree  aug- 
mented. 

At  all  events,  however,  and  whatever  be 
the  extent  of  these  expected  savings,  and  the 
improvement  to  be  made  in  consequence  in  our 
f  ^ mces,  we  are  to  estimate  the  evils  and  dan- 
gers which  are  to  be  placed  in  the  opposite  scale, 
the  chief  of  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  point 
out,  though  in  a  very  hasty  and  summary  man- 
JDiCr,  in  the  observations,  wath  which   I  have 

already 


57 

already  troubled  the  House.  Thpy  may  be 
classed,  generally,  under  three  heads : — The 
ascendency,  which  it  is  feared,  France  may  in 
time  acquire,  even  in  those  sources  of  greatness, 
which  we  seem  inclined  to  consider  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  all  others,  our  manufactures  and  com- 
merce ;  supposing,  as  I  am  here  doing,  that 
Peace  continues  without  interruption,  and  even 
without  any  great  advantage  being  taken,  of  the 
threat  of  axenewal  of  hostilities.  Secondly,  the 
effect  to  be  produced,  in  a  Peace  so  constituted, 
by  the  continued  use  of  this  menace,— an  engine 
of  which  it  is  difficult  to  calculate  the  force, 
applied,  as  it  may  be,  to  every  point  on  which 
the  interests  of  the  countries  are  opposed,  and 
for  the  accomplishment  of  every  object,  which 
Franc?kmay  wish  to  attain.  Thirdly  and  lastly. 
War  it4lf ;  begun  of  course  at  such  moment,  as 
France  shall  judge  most  advantageous  to  her, 
and  when  by  a  due  improvement  of  the  pre- 
ceding period  of  Peace,  Great  Britain  shall  have 
been  placed  in  a  situation  to  be  least  capable 
of  resisting  its  effects.  On  these  points,  having 
spoken  to  each  already,  as  far  as  the  occasion 
seems  to  admit,  though  far  short  of  what  the 
subject  demands,  I  shall  detain  the  House  no 
longer,  but  leave  to  every  Gentleman  to  form 

H  his 


/: 


•f 


V 


1. 


i;^ 


-^v 


'1 


58 

his  own  judgment  on  the  extent  and  reality  of 
these  dangers,   and  finally  to  settle  the  com- 
parison between  these  (with  others  connected 
with  them)  and  the  continuance  of  the  War, 
such  as  War  from  this  time  might  be  expected 
to  prove.     The  only  head  of  danger,  to  which 
I  wish  now  to  speak,  is  one  of  a  quite  different 
nature ;  but  so  serious,  so  certain,  so  imminent, 
so  directly  produced  by  tlie  Peace  itself,  that  I 
must  not  omit  to  say  a  few  words  upon  it.  This 
is,   the    danger   now  first  commencing;    and 
which  may  be  conveyed  in  a  single  word,  but 
that,  I  fear,  a  word  of  great  import — Inter- 
course.    From  this  moment  the  whole  of  the 
principles  and  morals  of  France  rush  into  this 
country  witliput  let  or  hindrance,  with  nothing 
to  limit  their  extent,  or  to  controul  thw   in- 
fluence.    While  the  War  continued,  liot  only 
the  communication  was  little,  or  nothing,   but, 
whatever  contagion  might  be   brought  in  by 
that  communication,   found  the  country  less  in 
a  state  to  receive  it.     The  very  heat  and  irrita- 
tion of  the  War  was  a  preservative  against  the 
infection.     But  now  that  this  infection   is  to 
come  upon  us  in  the  soft  hour  of  Peace  ;  that 
it  is  to  mix  with  our  food  ;  that  we  are  to  take 
it  into  our  arm? ;  that  it  is  to  be  diffused  in  the 

very 


tV 


w 


59 


very  air  we  breath ;  what  hope,  can  we  sup- 
pose, remains  to  us  of  escaping  its  effects  ? — 
This,  I  used  formerly  to  be  taught,  before  the 
weight  of  taxes  had  lessened  our  apprehensions 
of  French  fraternity,  was  one  of  the  conse- 
quences most  to  be  dreaded  in  Peace,  in  what- 
ever form  it  should  come,  short  of  the  restora- 
tion of  some  Government,  not  founded  on 
Jacobinical  prmciples.  But  somehow  or  ano- 
ther, the  very  idea  of  this  danger  seems  long 
since  to  have  vanished  from  our  minds.  We 
are  now  to  make  Peace  in  the  very  spirit  of 
peace,  and  to  throw  ourselves  without  reserve 
into  the  very  arms  of  France.  With  respect, 
indeed,  to  one  part  of  the  danger,  the  princi- 
ples of  France,— meaning  by  that  the  political 
principles, — we  are  told,  that  all  danger  of  that 
sort  is  at  an  end ;  that  in  this  country,  as  every 
where  else,  the  folly  of  the  revolutionary  prin- 
ciples is  so  thoroughly  understood,  that  none 
can  now  be  found  to  support  them.  Jacobin- 
ism is,  as  it  were,  extinct :  or,  should  it  still 
exist,  we  shall  have,  as  our  best  ally  against 
it,  Buonapart6  himself. 

Sir,  I  have  already  stated  what  my  confi- 
dence is  in  that  ally.  I  know  that  neither  he  per- 
sonally,  nor  any  other  of  the  free  governments 

H  2  that 


rt 


0 


60 


I  . 


if 


that  have  subsisted  in  France,  have  ever  suffered 
these  doctrines  of  Jacobinism  to  be  used  against 
thein  t  Kes.  But  I  must  again  ask,  on  what 
gi.  iua!  we  suppose,  that  France  has  renounced 
the  IP  of  them,  w^ith  respect  to  other  r  untries? 
Wc  have  heard  less,  indeed,  of  late,  of  her 
principles,  because  we  have  heard,  and  felt, 
more  of  her  arms.  For  the  same  reason,  we 
may  possibly  hear  litde  of  them  in  future.  But 
do  they  therefore  cease  to  exist  ?  During  the 
V  iole  course  of  the  Revolution,  France  has 
sometimes  employed  one  of  these  means,  and 
sometimes  the  other.  Sometimes  the  arms  liave 
opened  a  way  for  the  principles,  at  others  the 
principles  have  prepared  the  object,  as  an  easy 
conquest  to  the  amis: — In  the  flight  of  this 
chain-shoL,  sometimes  one  end  has  gone  fore- 
most, and  sometimes  the  other,  and  at  times 
they  may  liavc  struck  their  object  at  once  :  but 
the  two  parts  alike  exist,  and  are  inseparably 
linked  together. 

Nothing,  therefore,  can  in  my  mind,  be 
more  idle  than  this  hope  of  the  extinction  of 


'^  Cf 


nism,  either  as  an  instrument  t 


()  in:   IJ  -i  il 


o  d 


b)  i  Kdi^L,  should  her  occasions  require  lU  t^r  ao 
principle  ever  to  be  eradicated  out  of  inv  com- 
munity, in  which  it  has  taken  one    i    't     I  luu  - 


,./ 


61 


ever  true  it  may  be,  that  the  example  of  France 
ought  to  serve  as  the  strongest  antidote  to  its  poi- 
son, and  that  it  does  so,  in  fact,  in  the  innids 
vlniAuv,  yetit  isequ^ii)'  irue,  that,  ui  anuiiicr 
view,  and  to  many  odier  persons,  it  operates  in 
n  directly  contnirv  wav, — not  as  a  wariHiin,  but 
as  an  incitement.  What  I  am  now  speaking  of, 
is, — however,  not  the  danger  of  the  political 
princ  ij  !( s  of  France,  but  the  still  surer  and  more 
dreadful  J  anger,  of  its  morals.  What  are  we 
{  >  Lhink  of  a  country,  that  having  struck  out  of 
UH  us  minds,  as  far  as  it  has  the  power  to  do  so, 
all  sense  of  religion,  and  all  belief  of  a  future 
life,  has  struck  out  of  its  system  of  ri'vil  polity, 
the  institution  of  marriage  ?  That  has  formally, 
professedly,  and  by  law,  established  the  con- 
nexion of  the  sexes,  upon  the  tbotln^  ui  an 
uin  «?'n  nied  concubinage  ?  That  has  turned  the 
whole  country  into  one  universal  brothel  ^  That 
leaves  to  every  man  to  take,  and  to  e  t  rid 
of,  a  wife,  (the  fact,  T  believe,  continues  to 
be  so,J  and  a  wife,  in  like  manner  to  get  rid  ot 
her  lilt  band,  upon  less  notice  than  you  can,  in 
this  C(  uhtrv,  6f  a  readv-furnished  lodging  ? 

"W  hai  a. e  we   to  think  of  uniting  with  a 
couiitrv,  in  wliich  such  things  have  happened, 
and  wLere  for  generations  the  effects  must  con- 
tinue. 


\i 


r 


\i 


62 

tinue,  whatever  formal  and  superficial  changes 
prudence  and  policy  may  find  it  expedient  to 
introduce  in  the  things  themselves. 

Do  we  suppose  it  possible,  that,  with  an 
intercourse  subsisting,  such  as,  wc  kii  ^w,  will 
take  puce  between  Great-Britain  ami  Trance, 
the  morals  of  this  country  should  continue  what 
tliey  have  been  ?  Do  we  suppose  that  when  this 
Syrus  in  Tiberim  dejiuxit  Orontes,  when  that 
'  revolutionary  stream,'  the  Seine,  charged  with 
all  the  colluvies  of  Paris, — with  all  the  filth  and 
blood  of  that  polluted  city,— shall  have  turned 
its  current  into  the  Thames,  that  the  waters  of 
our  fair  '  domestick  flood'  can  remain  pure  and 
wholesome,  as  before  ?  Do  we  suppose  these 
niinz:^  ran  happen?  Or  is  it,  that  we  are  indif- 
irRiu,  u  i  :  acr  they  happen  or  not:  and  ihat 
the  morals  of  the  country  are  no  longrr  any 
object  ui  uui  concern  ? 

Sii .  I  fear,  the  very  scenes  that  we  shall 
witness,  even  in  the  course  of  the  present  win- 
ter, will  give  us  a  suflScient  foretaste  of  what  we 
i  \  expect  hereafter;  and  show,  how  little 
the  morals  of  the  country  will  be  protected  by 
those  who  should  be  their  natural  guardian, 
the  higlu  r  and  fashionable  orders  of  society. 
la  what  crowds  shall  we  see  flocking  to  liie 
3  hotel 


63 

hotel  of  a  Regicide  Ambassador,  however  dcp 
m  all  the  sfuilt  and  horror  of  his  time,  those, 
whose  doors  have  hitherto  been  shut  inflexibly 
against  every  Frenchman  ;  whom  no  feeling  for 
honourable  distress,  no  respect  for  suffering  loy- 
alty, no  sympathy  with  fallen  grandeur,  no  de- 
sire of  useful  example, — and  in  some  instances, 
I  fear,  no  gratitude  for  former  services  or  civi- 
lities, have  ever  been  able  to  excite  to  show  the 
least  mark  of  kindness  or  attention  to  an  emi- 
grant of  any  description  ;  though  in  that  class 
are  to.be  numbered  men,  who-in  every  circum- 
stance of  birth,  of  fortune,  of  rank,  of  talents,  of 
acquirements  of  every  species,  ue  fully  their 
equals  \  and  whom  the  virtue  that  has  made  them 
emigrants,  has,  so  far  forth  rendered  their  su- 
periors !  A  suite  of  richly  furnished  apart- 
ments, and  a  ball  and  supper,  is  a  trial,  I  fear, 
too  hard  for  the  virtue  of  London. 

It  is  to  this  side,  that  I  look  with  greatest 
apprehension.  The  plague  with  which  we  are 
threatened,  will  not  begin,  like  that  of  Homer, 
with  inferior  animals,  among  dogs  and  mules, 
but  in  the  fairest  and  choicest  part  of  the  crea- 
tion ;  with  those,  whose  fineness  of  texture 
makes  them  weak;  whose  susceptibility  most 
exposes  them  to  contagion;  whose  natures, 
being  most  excellent,  are,  for  that  very  reason, 

capable 


%f 


'H\ 


64f 

capable  of    becoming   most    depraved ;  who, 

beinir  t'^''nird   to  promote  the  hapninr?-  of  the 

world,  iiiu)'-,  wiicii  •'  strained  iVuiLi  Uiai  laa  use/' 
prove  iis   bane   and  destruction;  rttaniirii;,  as 

ih(;'\-  will    st\]\    do,   much  of  thiii  tiiipin- which 


i  i  i  i  li  r.       ii  i  ,U 


far  iilties  of  the  other  half  of  the  species.*  "  The 

winnan  u^rii[)n.  ti  me,  and  I  did  eat,"  Will  br  lu  be 
said,  f  I  ir,  of  this  second  fall  of  man,  as  i  was 
of  the  first.  Sir,  we  heard  much  last  vrar,  of 
il'iv  necessity  of  new  laws  to  check  liiu  giuwing 
progress  of  vice  d  immorality.  I  suppose  we 
1iarc!t\  iiitan  t  ^  persist  in  any  such  projects.  It 
will  be  t  .  hddish  to  be  busying  ourselves  in 
stopping  cvf  !\  liitle  crevice  and  aperture, 
throiiLrti  will  h  vice  may  ooze  in,  wlien  we.are 
pen  at  once  the  flood  gates,  and  admit 


»  ( y; 


the  whole  tide  of  French  practices  nnd  pniici- 
pics,  uli  the  morals  of  the  two  countries  sLali 
have  settled  at  their  common  level. 

I  must  beg  here,  not  to  be  told,  that  of 
Ihis  kind  of  argument  die  only  result  is,  that  we 
should  never  make  Peace  with  France  at  all, 
until  the  monarchy  should  be  restored.  The 
argument  implies  no  such  thing.  That  no  kind 
o    Peace  with  France  will  be  safe,  till  tlirn,   T 


Uill 


*  Sec  Appendix  N. 


lis 


65 

am  not  in  the  least  disposed  to  deny :  but  the 
iiaiure  of  human  affairs  does  not  admit  of  our 
gi  iting  always  what  we  may  think  most  admira- 
!)it  'Wc  mncf  take  up  often  with  what  is  far  short 
ui  our  ideas,  either  of  advantage  or  safety.  The 
question  at  present  is,  whether  in  either  of  those 
views,  we  ought  to  take  up  with  the  present 
Peace:  and  among  the  evils  incident  to  it,  and 
nil  mediately  resulting  from  it,  I  state  one, 
whicli,  iii  conjunction  with  others,  is  to  be 
weighed  against  its  advantages;  namely,  the 
havock  likely  to  be  made  by  it  in  our  principles 
and  morals.  If  any  one  should  be  of  opinion, 
that  this  consideration  is  of  so  much  weight,  that 
War,  almost  upon  any  terms,  is  preferable  to 
Peace  with  a  state,  founded  upon  a  declared 
Auk  i  111,  and  filled  with  all  the  abominations 
and  pollutions  certain  to  result  from  such  an 
origin,  it  is  not  my  business  to  dispute  with  him: 
but  that  is  not  the  way  in  which  the  argument 
is  applied  here ;  nor  is  it  indeed  applied  in  any 
way,  otherwise  than  as  a  consideration,  making 
part  of  the  case,  and  to  which  every  body  is  to 
allow  what  weight  he  shall  think  proper.  The 
iiubfortune  of  the  country  has  been,  that  it  has 
never  seen,  and  felt,  fully,  the  extent  of  its 
d  inger.  The  country, — speaking  of  it  in  ge- 
:  -  I  neral. 


/I 
i  i 


I'll 


I 


ll) 


1 4 


neral,  and  not  with  a  view  to  particular  place?, 
or  classes  of  people,  upon  whom  the  pressure  of 
the  \\  li   1  as  borne  with  peculiar  cevc  rin,— lias 
been  so  rich,  so  prosperous,    so   iiipi  y;  men 
have  er*  ved  here  in  so  superior  a  degree,  and 
with  such  }>erfect  freedom  from  molestation,  all 
the  blessings  and  comforts  of  life,  that  they  have 
never  been  able  to  jx^rsuade   themselves,  that 
any  real  harm  could  befall  them.     Lvtii  those, 
who    have  clamoured   most  loudly  about  the 
dangers  of  the  country,  have  given  at  times,  the 
most  exaggcrted  representations  of  them,  have 
really,  and  when  their  opinions  come  to  be  ex- 
amined,  never   described   this   danger   as  any 
thing  truly  alarming.     For  their  danger  has  al- 
ways been  a  provisional  and  hypothetical  danger, 
such  as  we  should  be  liable  to,  if  we  did    not 
conform    to  such  and   such  conditions:   but  as 
these  conditions  were  always  in  our  pownr,  :ird 
art    now,  as  we  see,  actually  resortLa  lu,  uui 
real  and  absolute  danger  was,  in  fact,  none  at 
nil.    **  You  will  be  ruined,  if  you  continue  thr- 
"  War ;  but,  make  Peace,  and  you  are  safe :" 
and   unquestionably,  as  there  can  hai  ilv  line 
been  a  period,  when  a  Peace,  such  a^  ih    pre- 
sent, was  not  In  our  power, — if  such    i  Peace 
can  give  us  safety,  there  never  was  a  pen d 

when 


- 


.1. 


•? 

* 


67 

when  we  could  properly  be  said  to  have  been 

in  iK-inger.  We  had  a  purl  iiiway:^  under  bur 
lee ;  so  that  if  it  came  to  overblow,  or  the  ship 
Inhour^d  too  much,  we  had  nothing  to  do,  but 
to  pui    up  our  helm,  and  run  at  once   into  a 

;place  of  safety.     But  mv  iden<?  of  the  liangi -r 

have  aiwax  >  bucn  of  a  far  diflbrent  sort,  lu  iiic 
it  has  ever  seemed,  that  the  danger  was  not  con- 
ditinna!  but  absohite  :  that  it  was  a  qiuolu.ao 
w  hether  we  cuuid  be  saved  upon  an)  other  ivJin^ , 
w  liothcr  we  could  weather  this  shoal  upon  either 
tack,  'ihc  port  appeared  to  me  to  be  an  enemy's 
|juu  ,  where,  though  we  might  escape  the  dan- 
crni-  of  the  sea,  we  should  fall  into  the  hauub  oi 
ihe  savages,  who  would  never  suiJer  us  to  see 
again  our  native  land,  but  keep  us  in  a  state  of 
thraldoiiu  far  mure  to  be  dreaded  than  the  ut- 
most iur}'  oi'  the  vv^aves. 

I  have  ncvrr  pretended  to  say,  that  there 
w  ere  not  dangers  iri  W;ir,  as  unquestionably  there 
are  iircat  evils ;  I  b  ivc  said  only  that  there  were 
evijc;  anh  oan2:ers,  not  less  real  and  certain,  in 
1 1  .a  e,  |)  imcularly  in  a  Peace,  made  on  such 
terms  as  the  t n-ent  For  terms  of  Peace,  In 
spite  oi  whui  we  here  talked,  have  some- 
thing to  do  with  rendering  our  situation  more 
or  less  secure,  even  in  those  respects,  ip  which 

1  2  they 


f  ii 


iv 


I   4 


'I 


ii 


6$ 

they  are  supposed  to  operate  least.  In  general, 
though  terms,  however  advantageous,  would 
not  secure  us  against  the  mischiefs  of  French 
fraternity,  and  the  infusions  of  French  princi- 
ples and  morals,  yet  they  would  make  a  little 
difference,  I  apprehend,  as  to  the  effect  which 
Peace  would  produce  in  the  feelings  of  Europe; 
as  to  the  air  of  success  and  triumph  which  it 
would  give  to  the  enerny,  and  of  defeat  and 
humiliation,  which  it  would  impress  upon  us; 
as  to  the  consequences  resulting  from  thence, 
even  with  respect  to  the  propagation  of 
French  principles,  but  certainly  as  to  the  con- 
firmation of  French  power  ;  and,  above  all,  as 
to  the  situation  in  which  we  should  stand,  should 
France  choose  to  force  us  again  into  a  War.  The 
port  of  Malta,  strong  as  it  is,  would  not,  lite- 
rally, serve  as  a  bulwark  to  stop  the  incursions 
of  Jacobinism:  figuratively,  it  would  not  be 
without  its  effect  in  that  way  :  yet  there  would 
be  some  difference,  I  conceive,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  a  War,  whether  we  werein  possession  of 
Malta  or  not;  and  in  the  mean  while,  the 
knowledge  of  that  difference,  in  the  minds  of 
the  enemy,  and  of  ourselves,  would  be  quickly 
felt,  in  any  discussions  which  might  take  place 
between  us,  in  time  of  Peace. 

The 


69 

The  dangers  of  Peace,  therefore,  are  aug- 
mented a  hundred-fold  by  terms  at  once  so 
degrading  and  injurious,  as  those  to  which 
we  have  submitted  :  on  any  terms  on  which  it 
could  have  been  concluded,  it  would  have  had 
its  dangers,  and  dreadful  ones  too;  France  re- 
maining a  revolutionary  government,  and  being, 
as  it  is,  in  possession  of  Europe.  Whether  that 
evil  must  not  ultimately  have  been  submitted  to; 
whether  the  hopes  of  change,  either  from  coali- 
tions without,  or  commotions  within,  might  not 
have  become  so  small,  and  the  evils  of  War, 
however  mitigated,  so  great,  that  we  must  have 
made  up  our  minds,  after  taking  the  best  se- 
curities against  those  dangers  that  we  could, 
finally  to  have  acquiesced  in  them,  is  a  separate 
question,  which  I  will  not  now  discuss.  But  the 
time  in  my  opinion  was  not  come  when  such 
unqualified  acquiescence  on  our  part  was  re- 
quisite; when  we  were  to  cease  to  enquire  what 
those  securities  were;  or  when  we  ought  to  have 
taken  up  with  such  securities,  if  securities  they 
can  be  called,  as  are  offered  by  the  present  treaty. 
The  great  misfortune  has  been,  that  this  ques- 
tion of  Peace  has  never  yet  been  fully  and 
fairly  before  the  country.  We  have  been  taken 
up  with  the  War;  that  was  tlie  side  of  the  al- 
ternative 


m 


I 

I 


f  I 


','*« 
fas 


[*.  •<# 


-«■■-• 


D': 


I. 


Ill 


'if 


70 

ternative  next  to  us; — and  have  never  yet,  till 
it  was  too  late,  had  our  attention  fairly  directed, 
or,  I  must  say,  fairly  summoned,  to  the  dread- 
ful picture  on  the  other  side.  If  we  had,  we 
should  never  have  heard,  except  among  the 
ignorant  and  disaftccted,  of  joy  and  exultation 
through  the  land,  at  a  Peace  such  as  the 
present. 

Here,  Sir,  I  have  nearly  closed  this  sub- 
ject. One  only  topick  remains,  a  most  impor- 
tant one  indeed,  but  which  I  should  have  been 
induced,  perliaps,  on  the  present  occasion,  to 
pass  over  in  silence,  if  in  one  part  of  it  I  did 
not  feel  myself  called  upon,  by  something  of  a 
more  than  ordinary  duty. 

When  a  great  military  monarch  of  our 
time*  was  at  the  lowest  ebb  of  his  fortunes,  and 
had  sustained  a  defeat,  that  seemed  to  extinguish 
all  his  remaining  hopes,  the  terms  of  his  letter, 
written  from  the  field  of  battle,  were — "  We 
have  lost  every  thing,  but  our  honour."  Would 
to  God,  that  the  same  consolation,  in  circum- 
stances liable  to  become  in  time  not  less  disas- 
trous, remained  to  Great-Britain !  I  should  feel  a 
far  less  painful  load  of  depression  upon  my 

mind, 

♦  See  Appendix  O. 


$ 


71 

mind,   than  weighs  upon  it  at  this   moment. 
But  is  our  honour  saved  in  this  transaction?   Is 
it  in  a  better  plight  than  those  two  other  objects 
of  our   consideration,    which    I    have    before 
touched  upon,  our  dignity  and  our  security?  I 
fear  not.     I  fear  that  we  have  contrived    to 
combine  in  this  proceeding,  all  that  is  at  once 
ruinous  and  disgraceful ;  all  that  is  calculated  to 
undo  us,  in  reputation  as  well  as  in  fortune,  and 
to  deprive  us  of  those  resources,  which  high 
fame  and  unsullied  character  may  create,  "even 
"  under  the  ribs  of  death,*'  when  all  ordinary 
means  of  relief  and  safety  seem  to  be  at  an  end. 
I  am  speaking  here,  not  of  the  general  discredit 
that  attaches  to  this  precipitate  retreat  and  flight 
out  of  the  cause  of  Europe,  and  of  all  mankind ; 
but  of  the  situation  in  which  we  stand    with 
respect  to  those  allies,  to  whom  we  were  bound 
by  distinct  and  specifick  engagements.  I  must  be 
very  slow  to  admit  that  construction,  which  con- 
siders as  a  breach  of  treaty  any  thing  done  by  a 
contracting  power,  under  a  clear  band  fide  neces- 
sity, such  33  the  other  party  itself  does  not  pretend 
to  dispute.  If  an  absolute  conquest  of  one  of  the 
parties  to  an  alliance  does  not  absolve  the  other 
from  the  obligation  which  it  has  contracted,  so 
neither  can  a  timely  submission,  made  in  order  to 

3  avert 


I''' II 
It 


Wb 


y 


i  \ 


•  % 


i 


) 


/l( 


k? 


>i 


m 


At 


■fi 


w 


,^  .     "*'*»■ 


Q 


fh' 


•fl 


^ 


r 


avert  such  conquest,  when  the  remaining  party 
itself  shall  not  be  able  to  describe  that  submission 
as  injurious  either  to  her  own  interest,  or  to  that 
of  the  common  cause.  If  we  were  not  in  a 
state  to  say  to  Sardinia,  that  it  was  better  for  us 
that  she  should  continue  her  resistance,  rather 
tlian  accept  the  terms  offered  her;  then,  I  say, 
we  are  not  in  a  state  to  consider  her  submission 
as  a  forfeiture  of  the  claims  which  she  had  up- 
on us.  We  have  left  Sardinia,  however,  with- 
out an  attempt  to  relieve  her,  without  even  a 
helping  hand  stretched  out  to  support  or  to 
cheer  her,  under  that  ruin  which  she  has  brought 
upon  herself,  with  no  fault  on  her  part,  while 
adhering  faithfully  to  her  treaty  with  us.  I 
must  call  that  adherence  faithful,  which  has 
continued  as  long  as  we  ourselves  could  say, 
that  it  was  of  any  use. — The  case  of  Sardinia 
is,  with  no  great  variation,  the  case  of  Holland 
also.  Both  powers  were  our  allies;  bodi  are 
ruined,  while  adhering  to  that  alliance;  both 
are  left  to  tlieir  fate.  But  Sardinia  and  Holland 
are  two  only  of  our  allies ;  and  placed  in 
circumstances  of  peculiar  difficulty.  There 
were  others,  it  may  be  said,  more  capable  of 
being  assisted,  for  whose  security  and  protection 
every  thing  has  been  done,  that  the  most  scru- 
pulous 


73 

pulous  fidelity  could  require.  Naples,  Portugal, 
and  Turkey,  will  attest,  to  the  end  of  time,  the 
good  taith  of  Great-Britain ;  and  shew  to  the 
world  diat  she  is  not  a  power,  who  evpr  seeks 
her  own  safety  by  abandoning  those  with  whom 
she  has  embarked  in  a  common  cause.  Sir,  if 
I  were  forced  to  make  a  comparison  between 
the  instances,  in  which  we  plainly  and  openly 
desert  our  allies,  and  those  in  which  we  affect 
to  protect  them,  I  should  say,  without  hesi^ 
tation,  that  those  of  the  former  class  were  the 
least  disgraceful  of  the  two ;  because  our  pro- 
tection is  in  fact  nothing  else  but  a  desertion, 
with  the  addition  of  that  ridicule  which  attaches 
upon  things,  that  endeavour  to  pass  for  the  re- 
verse of  what  they  really  are. 

The  protection  which  we  yield  to  these 
unfortunate  powers,  is  much  of  the  same  sort 
with  that  which  Don  Quixote  gives  to  the  poor 
boy,  whom  he  releases  from  the  tree  ;  when  he 
retires  with  perfect  complacency  and  satisfac- 
tion, assuring  him,  that  he  has  nothing  more  to 
fear,  as  his  master  is  bound  by  the  most  solemn 
promise  not  to  attempt  to  exercise  against  him 
any  farther  severity.  We  know.  Sir,  what 
respect  was  paid  to  this  promise,  as  soon  as  the 
knight  was  out  of  sight;  and  it  is  not  difficult 

K  to 


I 


M, 


:i 


(J 
I 


I 


»; 


:  ? 


to  foretell,  what  respect  will  be  paid  by  Buona- 
parte, (without  waiting  even,  I  am  afraid,  tiH 
'ttiy  Honourable  Friends  shall  be  out  of  sight), 
to  this  solemn  stipulation  and  pledge,  by  which 
WT  have  provided  so  effectually  for  the  security 
of  the  dominions  of  our  good  and  faithful  allies. 

The  ridicule  of  this  provision,  which  in 
any  ca-  ^  would  be  sufficiently  strong,  has,  un- 
doubtedly, in  the  case  of  Turkey,  something 
of  a  higher  and  livelier  relish;  Turkey  being 
the  power,  in  whose  instance,  and  with  respect  to 
precisely  the  same  party,  the  total  insufficiency 
and  nullity  of  such  engagements  has  been  so 
strikingly  manifested,  and  is  still  kept  so  fresh 
in  our  memories,  by  the  very  operations  with 
which  the  War  has  closed. 

So  much  as  to  our  conduct  towards  those 
powers,  with  whom  wc  stood  in  the  relation  of 
allies,  according  to  the  usual  diplomatick  forms; 
and  whom  the  common  policy  of  Europe  had 
been  accustomed  to  consider  under  these  and 
similar  relations. 

But  there  w  as  another  body  of  allies,  not 
ranked  indeed  among  the  European  powers, 
nor  possessing  much,  perhaps,  of  a  corporate 
capacity,  but  who,  as  men,  acting  either  sepa- 
rately or  together,  were  equally  capable  of  be- 

;  coming 


X* 


75 

coining  objects  of  good  faith,  and  i^i  fact  had  so 
become,  though  by  means  diiEferent,  in  point  of 
form,   from   those  which   engaged  the  faith  of 
the  coujntry,  in  any  of  the  instances  above  al- 
luded  to: — These  persons  were,   the  Royalists 
of  France,  wheresoever  dispersed,  but  particu- 
larly  that  vast  body  of  them  which    so  long 
maintained  a  contest  against  the  Republick,   in 
the  West;  where  they  formed  the  mass  of  the 
inhabitants  of  four  or  five  great  provinces,  far 
exceeding,  both  in  extent  and  population,  the 
kingdom  of  Ireland.*    I  mention  these  particu- 
lars of  their  force  and  numbers,  not   because 
they  are  material  to  the  present  purpose,  but 
because  they  serve  to  obviate  that  delusion  of 
the  understanding,   by  which  things,  small  in 
bulk,  and  filling  but  little  space  in  the  imagina- 
tion, are  apt  to  lose  their  hold  on  our  interests 
and  aflfections.     The  mention   of  them  may, 
moreover,   not  be  unnecessary  in  this  House, 
where,  I  fear,  from  various  causes,  all  that  re- 
lates to  the  Royalists  is  a  perfect  teira  incognita, 
as  little  known  or  considered,  as  the  affairs  of  a 
people  in  another  hemisphere.     The  Royalists 
were,  however,  a  great,  numerous,  and  substan- 
,  K  2  tive 


See  Appendix  P* 


1 1 

I 


'(,■ 


m 


.^tf 


"111 


il 


H 


i  ' 


7* 

live  body,  capable  of  maintaining  against  the 
Republick  a  War,    confessed    by  the   Repub- 
licans themselv^es  to  have  been  more  formidable 
and  bloody,  than  most  of  those  in  which  they 
had  been  engaged ;    and  of  terminating  that 
War  by  a  Peace,  which  showed  sufficiently 
what  the  War  had  been,  and  what  the  fears 
were,  which  the  Republick  entertained,  of  its 
possible  final  success.     But  let  the  numbers  and 
powers  of  the  Royalists  have  been  what  they 
might;    had  their  affairs  been   still   less  con^ 
sidered ;  had  they  been  more  disowned,   dis- 
countenanced, and  betrayed,  than  in  many  in- 
stances they  were  ;  had  more  such  garrisons  as 
those  of  Mentz  and  Valenciennes  been  suiFered 
to  be  sent  against  them ;  ^^  had  they  been  less  the 
real,   prunary  defenders  and  representatives  of 
that  cause,  which  the  Allies  professed  to  sup- 
port; still  there  were  our  formal  Proclamations, 
issued  at  various  periods,  not  expressly  engaging 
indeed  to  make  stipulations  for  them  in  case  of 
a  Peace,  but  calling  generally  for  their  exer- 
tions, and  promising  succour  and  protection,  to 
nil  those   who   should   declare   themselves   in 
favour  of  the  ancient  order  of  things,  and  of 

their 
-  ■       '  •■ 

♦  See  Appendix  Q, 


n 

their  hereditary  and  rightful  Monarch.  What 
1  am  to  ask,  is,  have  we  acted  up  to  the  spirit, 
or  even  the  letter,  of  our  own  proclamations  ? 
or  to  tlie  spirit  of  that  relation,  in  which  the 
Jiature  of  the  War  itself,  independent  of  any 
proclamations,  placed  us  with  respect  to  these 
people  ?  I  am  compelled  to  say,  (I  say  it  with 
great  reluctance,  as  well  as  with  great  grief,)  I 
fear  we  have  done  no  such  thing.  I  fear,  that 
a  stain  is  left  upon  our  annals,  far  deeper  than 
that,  which,  in  former  times,  many  were  so 
laudably  anxious  to  wash  away,  in  respect  to 
the  conduct  of  this  country  towards  the  Cata- 
lans. The  Catalans  were  not  invited  by  any 
declarations  more  specifick  than  those  which 
We  have  made  to  the  Royalists :  their  claim 
upon  us  was  in  some  respects  more  doubtful. 
Yet,  so  far  were  they  from  being  passed  over 
in  silence  in  the  terms  of  the  Peace ;  so  far 
were  they  from  being  abandoned  to  their  fate, 
left  to  the  merciless  persecution  of  their  enemies, 
that  a  stipulation  was  made  for  a  full  and  com- 
plete amnesty  for  them ;  and,  far  more  than 
that,  a  provision,  that  they  should  be  put  upon 
the  same  footing,  and  enjoy  the  same  privi- 
leges, with  that  province  which  was  in  fact  the 
most  favoured  under  the  Spanish  Monarchy. 

Yet, 


I  n 


m 


u 


■'^ 


( 


■,  itj 


i'lirr 


\l 


1!  ♦ 
1 


i% 


)i-\ 


#fl* 


78 

Yet,  because  more  was  not  done ;  because  they 
were  not  placed  in  the  situation  of  enjoying  all 
that  they  asked; — much  of  it,  perhaps,  having 
more  of  an  imaginary  than  a  real  value ; — be- 
cause in  a  part,  where  their  claim  was  more 
disputable,  perfect  and  entire  satisfaction  was 
not  given  them ;  did  a  large  and  respectable 
majority  of  this  House  think  it  necessary  to  in- 
stitute a  solemn  inquiry, — the  intended  foun- 
dation of  proceedings  still  more  solemn, — in 
order  to  purge  themselves  and  the  country,  as 
far  as  depended  on  them,  from  the  shame  of 
what  they  deemed  a  breach  of.  the  national 
faith. 

By  what  purgations,  by  what  ablutions, 
ghall  we  cleanse  ourselves  from  this  far  deeper 
and  fouler  blot,  of  having  left  to  perish  under 
the  knives  of  their  enemies,  without  even  an 
effort  to  save  them,  every  man  of  those  whom 
we  have  affected,  as  it  must  now  appear,  to 
call  our  friends  and  allies;  with  whom  we 
were  bound,  by  interests  of  far  higher  import 
than  those  of  a  disputed  succession;  who  were 
the  assertors  with  us  of  the  common  morality 
of  the  world;  who  were  the  true  depositaries 
of  that  sacred  cause,  the  very  priests  of  that 
holy  faith ;  with  whom  we  had  joined,  as  it 
!       ^  were. 


19 

were,  in  a  solemn  sacrament;  and  who,  oii 
all  these  grounds,  but  chiefly  for  the  sin  of 
having  held  communion  with  us,  are  now,  as 
might  be  expected,  doomed  by  the  fanatics  of 
rebellion,  to  be  the  objects  of  never-ceasing 
hostility,  to  be  pursued  as  offenders,  whose 
crimes  can  only  be  expiated  by  their  destruc- 
tion ? 

I  agree  with  what  has  been  said  by  my 
Honourable  Friend  [  Chancellor  of  the  Exche- 
quer], that  Peace  once  made,  all  communica- 
tion with  this,  or  any  other  class  of  people, 
hostile  to  die  French  Government,  must  com- 
pletely cease.     Whatever  the  Government  is, 
or  whatever  its  conduct  may  be  with  respect  to 
us,  if  we  think  fit  to  make  Peace  with  it,  that 
Peace  must  be  religiously  kept.    I  am  not  for 
curing  one  Jpreach  of  faith,  by  another.     But 
was  nothing  to  be  done,  in  the  final  settlement 
of  that  Peace ;  and  still  more  during  the  time 
which  has  elapsed  since  the  first  commencement 
of  the  negotiations  ?     I  wish  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer could  be  given  to  those  inquiries.     I  wish 
it  were  true,  that,  for  months  past,  numbers  had 
not  been  perishing  throughout  the  royalist  pro- 
vinces,  the  victims  of  their  loyalty  and  honour; 
---{men  hunted  down,  like  wild  beasts,  for  acts, 

which 


•I 


I. 


\ 


''!J 


{■^' 


,1 ' 

■A   i 

llij 

I 


^    I* 


80 

which  that  Government  may  call  crimes,  but 
which  we,  I  hope,  have  not  yet  learned  so  to 
characterize ;) — simply  for  want  of  §u.ch  means, 
as  might  have  enabled  them  to  effect  their  es- 
cape, and,  after  the  loss  of  every  thing  but 
what  their  own  minds  must  bestow,  to  have 
sought  an  asylum  in  some  foreign  land. 

Sir,  I  would  gladly  draw  a  veil  over  these 
facts.  But  our  shame  is  too  flagrant  aj)d  glaring, 
to  be  concealed :  the  cry  of  diis  blood  is  too 
loud  to  be  stifled.  I  beg  to  wash  my  hands  of 
it.  The  share  which  I  have  happened  to  have 
in  the  aftairs  of  this  illustrious  and  unfortunate 
people ;  the  interest  which  I  have  always  taken 
in  their  cause;  make  mc  doubly  anxious  to 
vindicate  myself  from  any  participation  in  the 
guilt  of  having  thus  abandoned  them.  I  wish  I 
could  vindicate,  in  like  manner,  the  Govern- 
inent  and  the  Country.  Among  all  our  shames, 
it  is  that  of  the  most  fatal  nature,  and  of  which, 
possibly,  we  shall  longest  rue  the  eftects.  - 

Sir,  I  have  done.  I  have  stated,  as  I 
thought  it  my  duty  to  do,  Avhat  my  apprehen- 
sions are,  as  to  the  nature  and  consequences  of 

the 


L 


*  See  Appendix  R. 


81 

tlie  present  Peace,    If  the  evils  which  I  impute 
to  it,  are  not  to  be  found  there^  if  the  dangers 
which  I  apprehend  should  not  come  to  pass,  na 
one  will  more  rejoice  in  my  erroi*  than  myself: 
those  who  differ  from  me  will  have  nothing  to 
complain  of;  I  shall  have  alarmed  myself;  I 
shall   not,    probably,    even  have   to  reproach 
myself   with    having   succeeded    in   alarming 
them.     But  if  any  there  should  be,  (there  are 
none  I  am  sure  in  this  House),    who  should 
say,    that  my  fears  are   not  imaginary;    that 
they   think    of   this   Peace    as    I    do ;     that 
they  apprehend  it  will  ruin  the  country ;  but 
that    they  hope  the   country   may    last    long 
enough  to  serve  their  turn ;  that  being  traders, 
they  think  the  trade  of  the  country  may  be 
lost;    that,  being  manufacturers,  they  believe 
its  manufactures  may  decline ;  but  that  for  this 
they  care  but  little,  provided  the  Peace  in   the 
mean  time  shall  prove  advantageous  to  them  ;-^ 
to  all  such,  if  any  there  can  be,  there  could  bt 
but  one  answer,— that  they  are  a  disgrace  to 
their  country  and  to  their  species ;  and  that  he 
must  be  as  bad  as  they,  who,  upon  such  terms, 
could   seek  to  merit  their   good    opinion,  or 
could  solicit  their  favour.     I  trust,  however, 
that  no  such  men  are  to  be  found ;  but  that  all 

L  -vvho 


U 


71 


I 


82 

who  rejoice  in  the  present  Peace,  do  it  under 
a  persuasion,  that  the  good  which  they  may 
hope  to  derive  from  it,  individually,  is  not  to 
be  obtained  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  final  welfare 
and  safety  of  their  country^ 


' 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


A. — Page  6. 


It  would  have  been  too  much  to  have  urged  the  plea 
of  poverty  in  a  country,  which  was  at  that  moment  excit- 
ing the  envy  and  jealousy  of  all  the  world  %  its  exorbi- 
tant  wealth. 


B.— Page  14. 
The  answer  to  be  given  to  this  question,  in  the  case 
of  the  present  treaty,  will  be  best  ascertained  perhaps  by 
recurring  to  wliat  happened  when  the  terms  of  the  treaty 
were  fir^t  declared.     It  was  some  time  before  any  body 
could  be  found  to  believe  them.    The  first  reporters,  when 
they  stated  that  every  thing  was  given  up,  except  Ceylon 
and  Trinidad ;  that  Demerary,  Cochin,  the  Cape,  Malta, 
all  were  gone  ;   were  treated  as  persons  who  were  jokmg, 
or  who  were  themselves  the  dupes  of  some  idle  joke  put 
about  by  the  Opposition.     Nobody  could  believe  that  the 
terms  of  the  treaty  were  in  reality  such  as  that  description 

represented  them. 

On  the  Continent,  where  the  speculations  are  apt  to 
be  more  refined ;  after  some  time  given  to  disbelief,  the 
difhculty  was  solved  by  the  supposition  of  secret  articles. 
*  Some  great  advantages  were  to  be  secured  to  Great-Bri- 

L  2  tain 


jy 


1   ; 

i 


il 


(i. 


w 


S4 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


I  I 


tain  of  another  kind;'  'Buonaparte  was  to  abdicate:' '  Louis 

the   XVlIIth  was  to  t>e   restored:'    &c.    &c.      It  never 

entered  the  thought  of  any  one,  that  the  state  of  tJfings 

was  finally  to  prave,  what  it  appeared  in  the  first  instance  ; 

and   that  from  mere    impatience   of  contest,   from  sheer 

impotence  of  mind,  Great-Britain  had  thus  suddenly  stop. 

pedin  her  career;  dropped  down  as  in  a  fit,  and,  aban. 

doning  all  her  means  pf  defence,  was  rolling  herself  in  the 

dust  at  the  feet  of  her  adversary,  regardless  of  what  in 

future  was  to  become  of  her,  and  looking  to  nothing  but 

such  temporary  respite,  as  '  the  satiate  fury'  of  the  foe, 

or  some  feeling  still  more  degrading  to  her,  might  happen 

to  yjeld. 


85 


C — Page  16. 

This  position  will  not  be  thought  to  have  become 
less  commanding  by  the  completion  of  an  event,  which, 
Jost  as  this  country  is  to  all  feeling  of  its  situation,  doel 
seem    to   have  produced   some  slight  sensation,   namely, 
the  extinction  of  the  Cisalpine  Republick,  and  the  repro, 
duction  of  it  under  the  new  form  and  title  of  the  Italian. 
Those  who  before  doubted,  to  what  degree  Buonaparte 
was  master  of  Europe,  may  find  here  wherewithal  to  settle 
their  opinion.     It  is  not  the  mere  assumption  of  so  much 
pew  territory,  or  of  so  much  new  dominion  at  least,  over 
a  territory  already  dependant ;  nor  the  new  danger  arising 
from  thence  to  Austria;  (either  of  them  circumstances,  tha'^t 
in  former  times,  would  have  set  the  Continent  in  a  flame,) 
t)ut  what  the  state  must  be  of  the  Powers  of  Europe,  who, 
ever  ^hey  ^re,  when  they  can  sit  quiet  spectators  of  tliis 

proceeding, 


proceeding,  without  daring  to  stir  a  step  to  prevent  it. 
The  assumption  of  this  territory,  though  it  be  only  a 
change  in  the  form  of  the  dominion  exercised  over  it, 
must  by  no  means  be  considered  as  of  little  importance. 
As  has  been  well  observed,  (vide  Cobbett's  Register,  page 
114)  the  use  to  be  made  of  a  country,  in  any  state  of  in- 
dependence, however  nominal,  is  by  no  means  the  same, 
as  when  that  country  is  placed  at  once  in  the  hands  of 
the  governing  power.  France  is  mistress,  it  is  true,  of 
Spain  and  Prussia,  and  of  Holland,  Switzerland,  Genoa, 
Tuscany,  and  all  the  south  of  Italy :  but  not  to  the  same 
degree  of  the  two  former  countries,  as  she  is  of  the 
others ;  nor  of  the  others,  in  the  same  manner  as  she  is 
of  the  new  Italian  Republick.  There  may  be  a  difference 
C)f  several  weeks. 


D.—Page  17. 

Among  the  posts  and  ports  included  in  this  descrip- 
tion, we  must  not  omit  to  particularize  the  Island  of  Elba, 
with  its  port,  Porto  Ferrajo.  This  little  island,  small  in 
extent,  but  not  small  in  consequence,  and  rendered  nobly 
conspicuous  at  the  close  of  the  day,  by  the  last  parting 
rays  of  British  glory,  which  fell  upon  it,  was  supposed 
by  the  provisions  of  the  Treaty  of  Luneville  to  have 
been  left  indirectly  only  in  the  power  of  France;  inasmuch 
as  it  was  expressly  stipulated,  that  it  was  to  form  part  of 
the  territories  of  the  new  king  of  Etruria, — a  king  made 
by  France ;  in  the  wantonness  of  her  malice,  and  as  a 
mockery  of  the  ancient  sovereigns  of  Europe.  The  pos- 
session  of  the  Island,  however,  in  this  way  was  not  thought 

sufficient ; 


*%,. 


0t  ! 

f.  ♦ 


SO  i 

1  ( 


#1 


pH 


«6 


appendix; 


sufficient ;  and  therefore,  that  nothing  might  be  ^vantinp: 
to  malk  that  perfect  contempt  of  good  faith  which  has 
nc\Tr  failed  to  be  manifested  by  the  Republick  in  all  her 
•transactions  with  other  countries,  Elba  was  to  be  obtained 
by  a  secret  treaty  with  the  King  of  Spain,— the  chief  of 
the  house  of  which  the  King  of  Etruria  was  a  member. 
'The  consequence  was,  that  when  Austria  in  the  Treaty  of 
Lunevillc,  and  England  in  the  late  Prehminary  Treaty, 
thouo-ht  that  they  had  left  this  island,  such  as  it  had  al- 
ways  be€n  before,  part  and  parcel  of  the  dutchy  of  Tus- 
cany, they  found  it,    to  their   great  surprize,    rising  up 
ao-ainst  them,    as  a  separate  possession  in  the  hands  of 
France,  ready  to  be  employed  for  the  more  easy  subju- 
gation of  Naples,  and  for  whatever  other  purposes  France 
might  have  to  prosecute  in  that  quarter  of  the  world.— It 
is  not  easy' to  conceive  an  instance  of  more  contemptu- 
ous imposition  on  one  side,  nor  of  more  forlorn  and  pitiable 
acquiescence  on  the  other. 


E. — Page  16, 

Great  doubt  seems  to  be  entertained  at  this  moment, 
ivliether  France  will  or  will  not  finally  obtain  possession 
of  St.  Domingo;  and  great  exultation  to  be  fekin  conse- 
quence by  those,  who,  a  few-  months  ago,  upon  the  ground 
that  the  conquest  of  St.  Domingo,  by  France,  was  neces- 
sary  for  the  security  of  our  own  islands,  had  consented  to 
•so  extraordinary  a  measure  as  the  sending  out  an  immense 
•  armament,  from  the  enemy's  ports,  in  the  interval  between 
the  Preliminary,  aid  the  Pefinitive  Treaties.  The  proba- 
bility is,  that  France  will  succeed,  so  far  at  least  as  to  keep 

possession 


APPENDIX. 


8t 


possession  of  part  of  the  island :  but  should  she  not,  then  aU 
the  terrors  affected  to  be  felt  at  the  establishment  of  a  Black 
Empire,  will  return  with  ten-fold  forces  for  the  Blacks  w.U 
remain  master.>-and  masters  after  having  tried  their  pow- 
ers in  a  regular  contest  with  European  troops,-not  to  men- 
tion the  hostility  which  they  may  well  be  suspected  to  con- 
ceive against  us,  who  after  various  treaties  and  negotia- 
tions, the  nature  of  which  may  require  hereafter  a  little 
examination,  finally  lent  our  assistance  to  the  sending  out 
a  force,  intended  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  them  back  to 
slavery.     Should  the  other  event  happen,  and  France  ob- 
tain possession  of  St.  Domingo,   it  may  then  well  be  a 
question,  how  long  we  shall  remain  in  possession  of  Ja- 
maica.     So  little  can  ordinary  men  enter  into  that  pro- 
found  scheme  of  policy,  which  would  give  to  your  enemy 
at  a  peace,  or  even  before  peace  was  concluded,  what  you 
lud  yourself  been  attempting  to  acquire  during  the  war, 
at  the  expense  of  more  than  ten  tliousand  men,  and  pro- 
bably of  twice  as  many  miUions  of  money. 


II 


F.— Page  IS. 

What  is  here  supposed  is  now  found  to  be  the  fact. 
By  a  secret  treaty  settled  with  Spain,  on  the  2 1st  March^ 
1801,  but  not  to  be  declared  till  after  peace  with.  Eng- 
land, or  till  ministers'  should  be  found,  who  previously  to 
peace  would  suffer  France  to  do  what  she  pleased,  Spain 
cedes  to  France  the  possession  of  Louisiana,  and  with  it, 
as  is  supposed,  that  of  the  tw^o  Floridas.  It  is  impossible 
to  pretend  that  this  event  was  one  which  could  not  have 
been  foreseen.     It  was  foreseen  by  the  treaty  of  Utrecht j 

it 


tns 


p  f 


A  P  F  E  N  I>  I  X# 

k  was  foreseen  by  the  fears  of  every  rdlecting  American ; 
it  was  pointed  out  to  the  people  of  America,  nearly  six 
years  ago,  not  only  as  an  event  likely  to  happen,  but  a» 
likely  to  happen  in  the  very  mode  which  we  have  now 
aeen,  (Vide  Cobbett's  Register,  page  199.)  Putting 
foresight  out  of  the  question,  the  fact  must  have  been 
known,  had  the  Ministers  here  either  dared  to  question 
France,  or  instead  of  allowing  France  to  negotiate  for  her 
allies,  insisted  on  treating  directly  with  those  powers  them- 
selves. 

Dreadful  is  their  responsibility,  by  whom  these  pre- 
cautions have  been  neglected,  and  by  whom  these  things 
have  finally  been  suffered  to  happen.     But  the  crime  or 
madness  of  those  who  have  caused  these  evils,  is  less  to 
us  than  the  evils  themselves.    France  has  hitherto  reckoned 
her  progress  by  states  and  kingdoms:  she  may  now  count 
by  continents :  she  has  established  herself  in  the  new  world. 
By  the  possession  of  these  countries,  placed  as  they  are, 
and  combined  with  those  which  before  belonged  to  her, 
she  will  hold,  as  by  a  sort  of  middle  handle,  the  two  great 
divisions  of  this  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  will  brandish 
these  continents  hke  the  blades  of  that  tremendous  instru- 
ment, which  did  such  signal  service  in  the  patriot  hands 
of  Lord  Edward  Fitzfjerald. 

The  consequences  of  this  acquisition  in  one  of  the  two 
hemispheres  (North  America)  are  well  detailed,  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  tbe  work  above  referred  to.  (See  p.  44, 
199,  253,  and  265.)  France  planted  now  in  the  same 
continent  with  the  United  States,  cutting  them  off  from 
some  of  their  richest  districts,  extending  her  settlements 
behind  them,  gradually  but  not  slowly,  till  the  mouths  of 

the 


Appendix, 


89 


• 


i 


I 


A 


the  Mississippi  shall  be  united  with  the  sources  of  the  St, 
Lawrence,  will  soon  make  them  feel  the  want  of  that  secu- 
rity which  they  have  hitherto  derived  from  an  intervening 
ocean  :    and  against  a  new  and   unconsolidated  mass  of 
states  will   finally  effect  that,  which  it  required  only  ten 
years  to  accomplish  against  the  old  and  well-compacted  go- 
vernments of  Europe.   In  the  mean-while  we  may  employ 
ourselves  in  considering,  what  is  likely  to  be  her  controul 
over  the  conduct  of  America  as  respecting  this  country ; 
what  the  danger  to  Canada,  and  to  that  portion  of  our 
trade,  which  is  carried  on  with  those  countries;  what  the 
effect  of  a  French  establishment   in  Louisiana  and  the  Flo- 
ridas,  joined  to  what  France  will  have  in  St.  Domingo, 
Martinique,  and  Guadaloupe,  upon  the  whole  of  our  West- 
Indian  interests  and  possessions. 

But  it  is  on  the  other  side,  and  towards  the  South,  that 
the  scene  is  most  awful ;  where  we  behold  the  whole  wealth 
of  the  new  world  lying  exposed  in  goodly  prospect,  and 
France,  with  no  other  point  to  settle  than  the  moment  when 
it  may  suit  her  convenience  to  take  possession  of  it.     Buo- 
naparte, established  in  Louisiana,  has  as  ready  an  access  to 
the  treasures  of  the  Spanish  mines,  as  any  banker  has  to 
his  strong  box.     Thanks  to  those  who  have  given  him  the 
key  of  them.     The  weahh  of  Spain  will  from  hencefor* 
ward,  directly  and  immediately,  and  with  no  necessity  for 
any  intermediate  process,  be  the  wealth  of  Fiance :   and 
let  no  man  flatter  himself  with  the  hope,  that  it  will  be- 
t  ome  in  her  hands,  what  it  was  in  those  of  its  former  pos- 
i^^jssors,  the  means  of  enfeebling  strength,   and  relaxing- 
industry  and  exertion.     In  succeeding  to  the  riches  of 
^pain,  there  is  no  ground  to  hope,  that  France  will  sue- 

M  ceed 


%. 


! 


IIMillll|li|l|l|lllllll IHMIiHH 


90 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


91 


V^ 


ceed  to  her  weakness  or  folly.  She  will  better  profit  by 
the  example  of  her  predecessors,  and  will  keep  her  wealth 
in  a  due  and  perfect  subordination  to  the  higher  and  dearer 
interests  of  her  ambition.  Her  mines  will  be  only  the  store- 
house of  her  power.  She  will  see,  in  these  dark  rcposito- 
/les,  nothing  but  a  magazine  of  future  wars;  which,  like 
winds  from  the  cave  of  ^clus,  will  rush  forth  to  sweep 
the  earth,  and  level  whatever  may  yet  be  found  to  oppost- 
the  final  accomplishment  of  her  wishes. 

Una  Eurusque  Notusque  ruunt,  creberque  procellis 
Africus,  et  vastos  volvunt  ad  litora  fluctus. 

An  open  boat  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  with  all  the  storms 
of  heaven  raging  for  its  destruction,  does  not  present  an 
image  of  more  unequal  contest,  than  Great-Britain  strug- 
Hing  with  a  power,  which  combines  against  her  the  old 
world  and  the  new ;  which,  to  the  force  of  nearly  the  whole 
continent  of  Europe,  to  something  in  Asia,  to  much  ii) 
Africa,  and  more  in  the  West-Indies,  adds  the  naval  re- 
sources of  the  continent  of  North  America,  and  the  wealth 
of  the  Spanish  mines. 

All  these  latter  dangers,  be  it  remembered,  are  created 
solely  and  exclusively  by  the  peace.  While  war  continued, 
these  resources  could  never  have  gone  to  the  enemy  ;  they 
ini'ght,  at  any  moment  when  necessity  had  been  press- 
ing, or  hope  in  Europ«  had  become  extinct,  have  been 
seeured  to  ourselves.  .  The  fear  of  this  was  probably  the 
cause  which  preserved  so  long  to  Spain  and  Portugal  the 
nominal  independence  which  they  ha*-e  enjoyed.  But 
these  advantages  (we  shall  be  told)  could  only  be  obtained 
by  war ;  and  war  is  ruin.— Not  exactly  indeed  to  every 

country ; 


country;  because  to  France  it  has  proved  the  means  of 
empire  and  greatness;  and  even  in  Great-Britain,  up  to 
the  period  of  the  ninth  year  of  war,  the  progress  pf  ruin 
did  not  seem  to  be  very  alarming.  We  shall  know,  be- 
fore long,  what  the  efficacy  is  of  that  provision,  whiqh 
grave  and  sober  men  have  made  for  the  happiness  and 
6;^fety  of  their  country,  in  peace.  *  ^ 


G.— Page  18, 

There  is  no  chance  that  the  evils  of  the  Peace  in 
this  respect  will  be  done  away,  whatever  may  become  of 
the  particular  cession  here  alluded  to.  Between  the  boun- 
dary settled  by  the  treaty  of  Madrid  and  the  boundary  now 
contended  for,  in  whatever  treaty  this  latter  is  to  be  found, 
the  difference  is  so  small  as  hardly  to  be  worth  disputing. 
Either  will  give  to  France  the  command  of  the  river  Ama- 
zon. In  this  view  the  French  may  ppssibly  concede  the 
point:  unless  indeed  the  assurances  given  by  our  ministers, 
that  they  meant  to  do  so,  may  be  a  reason  with  them  for 
Diaintaining  it, 


,       H —Page  19. 

There  have  always  been,  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
some  half  dozen  or  dozen  sensible  men,  who  having  found 
out,  that  Great-Britain  was  an  island,  have  been  of  opi» 
nion,  that  all  continental  connexions  are  iiyurious,  and 
calculated  only  to  fill  the  pockets  of  those,  who,  in  return 
for  English  guineas,  had  nothing  to  give  but  the  valour  and 
military  talents  of  their  subjects.    As  the  progress  of  reason 

M  ?  is 


VI 


i 

1 

s 


93 


APPENDIX, 


APPENDIX. 


93 


I  ' 


i  «^ 


II  ! 
i  i 


if 


is  slow,  this  party  had  remained  for  a  century  or  more  in  a 
very  obscure  minority,  opposed  by  all  who  for  their  wisdom 
or  talents,  or  supposed  knowledge  of  pitblicfe  affairs,  had 
figured  at  any  time  in  the  history  of  the  country.     But 
oppressed  as  the  party  had  long  been,  they  have  lived  to 
see  the  day,  when  their  opinions  are  at  length  triumphant; 
and  when  the  ministers  of  the  country,  with  the  full  ap- 
probation of  Pajliament  and  of  the  Nation,  are  settling 
a  treaty  of  peace   upon   a  formal  recognition  of   their 
principle,    and   declare    in    substance,    that  Great    Bri- 
tain has  no  longer  any  concern  or  interest  in  the  affairs 
and  situation   of  the  Continent.     It  is  only  unfortunate, 
that  time  has  not  yet  been  given  to  evince  the  truth  of 
this  principle  by  experience.     When  it  shall  be  seen  that 
this  renunciation  of  foreign  connexions,  and  retreat  into 
our  insular  resources  shall  have  produced  no  harm,  but 
thUt,  on  the  contrary,  the  power  and  prosperity  of  Great- 
Britain  shall  have  risen  higher  than  before,  then  will  this 
doctrine  have  received  its  full  and  final  confirmation. 


I.— Page  22. 

See  Etaf  de  la  France^  by  Hautrive,  a  work  published 
at  Paris,  in  1600,  immediately  under  the  direction  of  the 
French  Government,  and  universally  understood  to  be 
intended  as  a  sort  of  manifesto  of  their  sentiments.  See 
also  the  various  regulations  introduced  for  the  prohibition 
of  our  manufactures,  even  in  the  interval  between  the  Pre- 
Bminary  and  Definitive  Treaties, 

A  FEW 


K.— Page  25. 

A  FEW  weeks  before  the  above  discourse  was  delivered 
this  would  have  been  a  mistake :  for  the  treaty  of  Utrecht 
equally  provided  against  the  cession  of  any  of  these  set- 
tlements, as  against  the  cession  of  St.  Domingo :  but  it  is 
one  of  the  distinguishing  characters  of  the  late  prelimina- 
ries,— and  a  most  alarming  one  it  is— that  contrary  to  the 
almost  uniform  practice,  they  revived  no  former  treaties; 
so  that  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  as  respecting  this  country 
and  France,  may  be  now  considered  as  abrogated. 


L.— Page  41. 

The  topick  here  alluded  to  is  so  closely  connected 
with  this  subject,  that  the  argument  is  evidently  defective 
without  it.  An  opinion  indeed  prevails,  and  is  insisted 
upon  by  persons  of  much  apparent  wisdom  and  gravity, 
that  any  inquiry  into  the  conduct  and  merits  of  the  First 
Consul  is  unbecoming  and  improper  ;  unsuited  to  the  dig- 
nity of  a  great  assembly,  and  incapable  of  being  made 
conducive  to  any  useful  purpose.  To  many,  however,  it 
may  seem,  that  just  the  contrary  of  this  is  the  fact:  that 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  an  instance  can  hardly  be 
found  of  any  one,  whose  personal  qualities  were  so  much 
a  subject  of  general  concern,  and  consequently  so  proper 
an  object  of  inquiry ;  and  that  the  occasion  of  all  others, 
when  such  inquiry  must  be  most  pro}}er  and  necessary, 
was  that  in  which  we  were  preparing  to  sign  a  treaty  of 
peace  with  the  person  in  question,  founded  exprossiy  upon 

our 


«C*"' 


94 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX, 


95 


I 


1  • 
111  ■ 


"1 


our  confidence  in  his  character,  and  entrusting  to  the  issue 
of  our  judgment  in  that  respect,  the  whole  of  the  interests, 
welfare,  independence,  and  even  existence  of  a  great  em- 
pire. ^ 

Without  inquiring  generally  into  the  history  of  the 
person  thus  confided  in,  let  us  recur  only  to  a  few  of  those 
passages  of  his  life,  which  apply  most  immediately  to  tho 
trust,  which  we  i|re  here  reposing,  A  detailed  and  most 
masterly  exposition  of  these  is  to  be  found  in  Mr,  Pitt's  speech 
of  the  3d  February,  1800,  in  which  among  other  particulars, 
an  account  is  given  of  his  proceedings  towards  the  people 
and  governments  of  the  several  states  of  Milan,  Modena, 
Genoa,  Tuscany,  the  Pope,  Venice,  and  Egypt.  Of  all 
of  these  it  may  be  said  generally,  and  as  it  should  seem 
without  exception, — such  was  purposely  the  profusion  of 
engagements,  and  such  the  uniform  and  systematick  breach 
of  them, — that  not  a  single  act  was  done,  which  was  not  in 
violation  of  some  engagement,  and  certainly  not  a  single  en- 
gagement contracted,  or  profession  made,  that  was  not, 
in  every  part  of  it,  grossly  and  in  most  cases  instantly  vio- 
lated. The  French  rulers  have,  throughout,  evidently  acted 
upon  the  principle,  that  he  who  could  divest  himself  at  once 
of  all  moral  feeling,  and  release  himself  from  all  moral  con- 
troul,  must  for  the  time  have  an  immense  advantage  over  those 
■who  should  remain  under  the  old  constraints,  and  who 
might  not  be  sensible  immediately  of  the  change  which 
had  taken  place,  or,  when  they  were,  might  be  long  inca- 
pable either  of  adopting  it  into  their  own  conduct,  or  of 
so  correcting  their  ancient  feelings  and  habits  (the  habit 
for  instance  of  relying  in  some  degree  on  men's  assurances, 
yielding  something  to  their  professions,  believi^ig  in  part 

what 


what  they  should  solemnly  assert),  as  to  make  themselves 
proof 'against  its  effects.  Nobody  has  entered  more  fully 
into  these  views,  or  pursued  them  to  greater  extent,  than 
the  person  of  whom  we  are  here  speaking ;  whether  when 
employed  in  the  service  of  others,  as  in  the  instances, 
which  we  were  proceeding  to  state,  or  when  he  afterwards 
set  up  for  himself,  and  turned  *  these  instructions'  *  to 
plague  the  inventors,' — the  people  who  now  find  them- 
ijelves  under  his  yoke. 

.  In  Lombardy,  a  proclamation,  issued  immediate!/ 
upon  his  entrance  into  the  country,  and  containing  assu- 
rances the  most  solemn,  of*  respect  for  property,  respect 
for  rehgious  opinions,' — principles,  which  he  declared  to  be 
those  of  the  French  Republick,  as  well  as  of  the  army, 
which  he  commanded, — was  followed  instantly  by  a  suc- 
cession of  exactions,  amounting  to  many  millions  sterling, 
and  by  such  violations  of  every  religious  opinion  and  feel- 
ing, as  could  be  intended  only  to  produce,  what  it  at  last 
accomplished,  the  driving  the  people  to  something  like 
resistance,  and  thus  furnishing  a  pretext,  (unsupported  as 
it  was  to  the  last,  even  by  the  insurrection  which  had 
been  provoked,)  of  murdering  eight  hundred  of  the  inha- 
bitants of  a  single  town,  and  delivering  over  the  country 
to  mihtary  plunder  and  execution. 

In  Modena,  the  proceedings,  though  upon  a  smaller 
scale,  were  of  the  same  cast  and  character. 

In  Tuscany,  to  the  breach  of  the  general  rights  of 
neutralit}',  (that  neutrality  so  prudently  observed,  as  was 
declared  in  the  House  of  Commons,*  by  the  wise  Prince 
who  governed  that  country) j  to  the  breach  of  a  treaty  made 

the 

•  By  Mr.  Fox. 


I 


96 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


J  ■ 


\ 


f  1 


the  year  before  by  the  Republick,  was  added  that  of  a 
positive  engagement  made  a  few  days  before  by  himself. 
In  spite  of  all  these  rights,  and  treaties,  and  engagements, 
and  for  the  sake  of  an  act,  %vhich  was  in  itself  the  grossest 
violation  of  one  of  them,  viz.  the  seizing  an  enemy's  pro- 
perty in  a  neutral  port,  he  marched  into  the  country  with 
as  little  ceremony  as  if  he  had  been  taking  up  his  quarters 
in  a  part  of  the  Republick ;  and  having  completed  his  work, 
agreed  indeed  to  retire,  but  not  till  he  had  exacted  from 
this  unfortunate,  though  wise  Prince,  certain  conditions  as 
the  price  of  his  departure,  and  among  others  a  large  pe- 
cuniary contribution,  for  the  expenses  which  the  French 
bad  incurred  in  thus  invading  his  territories. 

In  Genoa,  tliese  breaches  of  treaty,  and  violations  of 
faith,  were  diversified  by  a  happy  mixture  of  those  mea- 
sures, by  which  protection  to  the  independence  of  states, 
is  made  to  signify  a  forcible  change  of  their  governments; 
and  defence  of  the  rights  of  the  people,  the  establishing 
over  them  a  foreign  and  military  tyranny.  But  as  these 
proceedings,  though  equally  a  breach  of  faith  with  the 
others,  seem  to  belong  more  peculiarly  to  the  class  which 
we  have  just  noticed,  we  will  say  no  more  of  them  here; 
and  for  the  same  reason,  as  well  as  from  the  inutility  of 
citing  separate  instances,  where  the  wliole  procGocling 
from  beginning  to  end  is  nothing  but  one  coiitiiiui  d  in- 
stance, we  will  forbear  to  dwell  upon  all  the  ti.igitiouf 
violences,  and  cruel  and  scandalous  outrages,  which  at- 
tended the  invasion  of  the  Pope's  states,  in  which,  though 
breach  of  faith  had  no  less  a  share  than  in  any  of  the 
transactions  before  enumerated,  it  is  lost  and  merged  as 
it  were,  in  the  various  other  sensations  of  indignation  and 

disgust, 


91 


disgust,  which  the  events  of  that  period  are  calculated  to 
call  forth. 

The  last  scene  of  these  proceedings  of  the  First  Con- 
sul, comprized  within  the  period  of  his  Italian  command. 
Jay  in  the  states  of  Venice ;  and,  as  it  happens  commonly 
at  the  close  of  the  piece,  the  incidents  here  seem  to  have 
become  more  numerous,  and  to  possess  something  of  a 
higher  and  stronger  interest.  The  general  descrip- 
tion of  them  is,  however,  the  same,  «  a  perpetual  renova- 
tion of  hope,  and  a  perpetual  disappointment ;'  professions 
of  friendship  followed  by  instant  acts  of  hostility;  assu- 
rances of  protection  serving  only  as  a  prelude  to  every 
species  of  violence ;  a^d  a  solemn  treaty  of  peace,  enga- 
ging to  preserve  to  the  country  its  government  and  laws, 
ending  in  the  subversion  of  both,  either  by  the  immediate 
hand  of  him  who  signed  the  treaty,  or,  as  happened  in 
this  instance,  by  the  transfer  of  the  country  <  to  the  iron 
yoke'  of  that  very  power,  the  deHvery  of  it  from  which 
was  the  professed  object  of  his  interference,  and  the  ground 
on  which  all  his  proceedings  were  to  be  justified. 

What  happened  on  these  occasions  in  Italy,  was  re- 
newed  afterwards,  so  far  as  respects  fidelity  to  treaties 
and  sincerity  in  negotiation,  in  all  the  transactions  of  a 
similar  nature,  in  which  Buonaparte  was  concerned,  either 
as  a  commander  acting  with  large  discretionary  powers, 
or,  as  placed  himself,  at  the  head  of  the  Republick. 
The  detail  of  these  would  shew,  that  mere  change  of 
time  and  place  made  no  change  in  the  character  of  the 
person,  or  of  the  system  pursued.  It  appears  by  all,  that 
good  faith  passed  for  nothing:  that  deceptions  the  most 
gross,  artifices  unheard  of  in  diplomatic  proceedings,  were 
practised  without  shame  or  scruple.     When  a  party  was 

N  once 


ss 


APPENDIX. 


t 


once  engaged  in  a  negotiation,  and  placed  in  a  situation  in 
which  he  could  no  longer  help  himself,  it  was  in  vain  to 
expect  that  any  regard  would  be  paid  to  the  professions, 
in  which  the  negotiation  began,  or  to  declarations  which 
occurred  in  the  course  of  it.  Any  old  engagement  was 
set  aside,  or  any  new  one  foisted  in,  as  suited  the  wishes, 
original  or  incidental,  which  France  happened  to  entertain. 
Of  all  this  proofs  will  be  found,  more  or  less,  in  each  of 
the  negotiations  and  conferences,  which  took  place  during 
the  period  here  considered ;  that  is  to  say,  from  the  close  of 
the  campaign  in  Italy  in  1797  to  the  hnal  settlement  of  what 
is  called  the  peace  of  the  continent;  particularly  in  what 
passed  at  Luneville  respcctihg  the  security  to  be  enjoyed  by 
Naples,  and  in  the  convention  with  the  Arch  Duke  at 
Steyer,  relative  to  the  armistice  between  Generals  Brunc 
and  Bellegarde. 

But  it  is  in  Egypt,  that  the  character  of  the  First 
Consul  is  to  be  seen  to  greatest  advantage.  It  is  there 
that  we  are  to  look  for  it  in  its  highest  and  most  perfect 
state.  It  is  in  the  rich  and  fertile  plains  of  Egypt,  under 
the  heat  of  those  more  ardent  suns,  that  his  virtues  seem 
to  shoot  forth  with  most  luxuriance,  and  to  acquire  a  spi- 
rit and  flavour,  unknown  in  the  colder  regions  of  Europe. 
We  will  say  nothing  here,  of  that  gigantick  contempt  of 
good  faith  and  publick  morality,  which  first  conceived  the 
project  of  the  expedition ;  of  the  outrages  which  followed 
in  the  train  of  it ;  of  the  happy  inversion  of  all  right  and 
justice,  wliich  treated  as  rebels,  and  consigned  to  instant 
execution,  those  of  the  inhabitants  who  presumed  to  de- 
fend their  country  against  a  foreign  invader — an  invader, 
whom  none  of  them  had  offended,  and  wliom  half  of  them 
had  never  heard  of,  till  they  found  liim  seizing  upon  their 

property, 


V 


APPENDIX, 


9sr 


property,  and  putting  to  death  all  who  dared  to  oppose  him : 
We  will  pass  over  the  massacre  of  three  thousand  prisoners, 
in  cold  blood,  at  Jaffa,  and  will  conse:..  cO  treat  as  doubtful 
the  strange  though  hardly  less  authenticated  fact,  of  his 
causing  poison  to  be  administered  to  the  sick  of  his  own 
army.     The  circumstance  which  most  forces  itself  upon 
the  attention,  which  most  attracts  the  eye  of  the  connois- 
seur in  the  midst  of  this  vast  and  splendid  collection,  is 
that  singular  combination  of  all  that  is  great  and  all  that 
is  little,— -all  that  is  great  in  guilt  and  mischief,  all  that  is 
little  and  despicable  in  the  means  of  its  execution, — the 
pretence  of  having  become  a  convert  to  the  Mahomedan 
Faith,  and  the  use  to  be  made  of  that  pretence  for  the  pur- 
pose of  committing  an  act  of  the  most  compHcated  fraud 
and  treachery.     Nobody  conceives  of  course,  for  a  mo- 
ment,   that    faith,  or  religious  opinion,    had   any  thino- 
to  do  in  this  proceeding  from  one   end    of  it  to   the 
other.     The  case  exhibits  nothing  but  a  reneo-ade  Chris- 
tian, who  is  affecting  not  to  be  an  Atheist,  only  in  the  hope 
that  he  may  pass  for  a  Mahomedan.     The  whole  was  a 
pretence,  for  the  pur|X)se  of  robbing  an  allied  prince  of  his 
dominions.      In  this  act,    however,   it  is  not  the  mere 
fraud  and  imposture  that  most  excites  attention :  instances 
of  that  sort,  in  our  police  offices  and  criminal  tribunals, 
are  familiar  to  us  every  day.    It  is  not  even  the  horrid  and 
blasphemous  impiety  of  itr    we   have    heard   of   Dutch 
schippers    tramphng   upon    the   crucifix.       What    most 
characterises  the   transaction,  wliat    is    its   true    di  tinc- 
tive  property,   is    the  singular   and   utter   shamelessness 
of   it;    the    total   abandonment    of  all   regard    for    cha- 
racter   or    decency,  wliich    could    commit   such    an  act 

N3.  ift 


/ 


appendix; 


in  the  face  of  day,  with  all  Eiirope  spectators  and  wit- 
nesses, but  placed  only,  as  he  hoped,  at  such  a  distance, 
that  they  could  not  interpose  in  time,  could  not  cry  "  stop 
thief,"  so  as  to  put  the  parties  upon  their  guard  and  pre- 
vent the  robbery  fiom  being  completed.  Buonapart6 knew, 
that  what  he  4i4  in  Egypt  must  be  known  in  six  weeks  to 
all  Europe,     he  knew,  that  in  Europe  there  was  not  a  hu- 
man being,  man,  woman,  or  child,  who  would  be  the  dupe  of 
this  pretended  conversion,    or  who  would  see  in  it  any 
thing  but  a  shocking  and  base  contrivance  to  strip  the 
Turks  of  Egypt.     But  he  was  content,  that  the  transaction 
should  be  «o  seen.     He  thought,  that  this  cheating  the 
Turk  would  be  considered  as  a  clever  trick,  a  droll  arti- 
fice ;  that  the  galleries  in  Europe  would  laugh  at  tliis,  just 
as  the  galleries  in  our  theatres  do,  when  any  piece  of  suc- 
cessful knavery  is  going  on  upon  the  stage, — when  Filch 
in  the  Beggar's  Operd  picks  Mrs.  Di's  pocket.     And,  to 
say  the  truth,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been  in  the  wrong 
in  this  expectation.     Such  is  the  deplorable  baseness  of 
mankind,  such  the  abject  homage  which  men  are  wiUing  to 
pay  to  crimes  attended  with  success,  to  wickedness  united 
with  power,  that  none  of  the  acts  committed  at  any  time  by 
the  agents  of  the  French  government,  seem  at  all  to  have 
hurt  their  reception  in  the  world,  either  collectively  or 
individually.     Their  oppressions  and  cruelties  excite  no 
indignation  ;  their  low  and  scandalous  frauds  no  contempt; 
their  treacheries  no  distrust.     In  the  case  of  the  person 
here  in  question,  you  would  swear,  that  his  perfidies  be- 
came him,  and  that,  like  one  of  Horace's  mistrcsseS;^  the 
more  false  and  faithless  he  shewed  himself,  the  greater 
was  his  train  of  followers  among  the  admiring  and  adoring 
governments  of  Europe. 


APPENDIX, 


101 


Tu,  simul  obHgasti 


Perfidum  votis  caput,  enitescis 
Pulchrior  multo,  juvenumque  prodis 
Publica  cura. 
There  is  a  perfect  contest  for  the  honour  of  being  betrayed 
by  him.     The  examples  of  those  unfortunate  and  confiding 
jcountries,  who  have  been  already  seduced  and  undone, 
produce  no  caution,  inspire  no  terror. 

After    the   remark,  made   at   the  beginning   of  this 
note,  it  will  hardly  be  asked,  of  what  use  is  it  to  notice 
these  facts  ?  It  is  of  some  use  to  know  betimes,   the  cha- 
racter of  the  person,  who  is  in  a  fair  way  of  becoming  our 
master,  and  who,  in  fact,  is  so  already,  as  far  as  relates  to 
a  perfect  ascendancy  over  those  who  direct  our  counsels. 
But  it  is  of  great  use  in  another  view,  to  point  out  to 
notice,    such  parts   of    tlie   history  of  the   First  Consul, 
as  those  which  we  have  been  speaking  of.     It  is  of  con- 
sequence to  know,  who  it  is  that  particular  persons  admire. 
If  it  be  true,  that  a  man  is  known  by  his  company  (noscitur 
a  socio)  it  is  equally  true,  that  some  judgment  may  be 
formed  from  those,  whom    he    extols    and  looks   up  to» 
What,  it  has  been  asked,  must  be  the  priest,  where  a 
monkey  is  the  god  ?  What  must  be  the  admirer,  where 
the  object  of  admiration,  is  a  person  capable  of  such  a 
proceeding  as  the  pretended  conversion  to  Mahomedanism  ? 
It  will  be  admitted,  probably,  that  this  is  not  to  come 
in,  in  the  hfrokk  part  of  the  character.     But  I  wish  to 
know,  with  respect  to  a  large  class  of  his  admirers, — 
the  enthusiasts  of  Hberty,  the  assertors  of  rights,  the  re- 
specters of  the  independence  of  nations,  the  abhorrers  of 
•War,  the  lovers  of  Peace  and  pacifick  arts,  the  exploders 

of 


i, 


I    , 


\l 


10!? 


APPENDIX. 


of  military  fame,— what  in  their  estimation  is  the  heroick 
part,  or  what  they  would  point  out  as  the  subject  of  their 
paneg3Tick  ?  Is  it  possible,  that  tha/  can  hold  out  to  us, 
as  an  object  of  admiration,  tlic  character  of  a  man,  whose 
merit,  whatever  its  amount  may  be,  must  in  kind  be  that 
of  a  soldier  and  a  conqueror  ;  whose  sole  occupation  iias 
been  War  ;  the  foundation  of  ^v  hose  fame  and  power  was 
laid  wholly  upon  military  exploits  ;  who  unites  in  himself, 
all  that  these  persons  would  profess  to  abhor  in  an   Alex- 
ander and  a  Caesar ;  who  has  been  at  once  the   conqueror 
of  foreign  nations,  and  the  subverter  of  the   liberties  of 
his  own  ?  These  things  shew,  beyond  a  doubt,  what,  for 
the  greater  part,  these  eulogiums  on  the  character  of  the 
First  Consul  really  are. — They  are,  either  the  base  abject 
homage  paid  by  the  generality  of  mankind  to  successful 
crime ;  or  the  insidious  praises  of  men,  who,  under  the 
mask  of  liberty,  patriotism,   and   respect  for  rights,  are 
seeking  to  gratify  their  own  spleen  or  ambition,  and  pre* 
paring  the  downfall   of  their  country.     Whatever  credit 
may  be  due  to  him  for  miUtary  talents,  and  whatever  cer- 
tainly is  due  to  him  for  decision,  boldness,  vigilance,   ad- 
dress, capacity  for  great  though  wicked  enterprizes,  it  will 
be  difficult  to  account  otherwise  than  is  above  done,  for 
the  sort  of  praises  which  we  liear,  and  the  quarters  from 
which  tliey  come. 


M. — Page  41. 

The  manner,  in  which  people  seem  to  have  posed 
themselves  with  this  question,  has  been  the  ruin  of  the 
country.     They  never  seem  to  have  got  the  length  of  dis- 


covering. 


A  P  P  E  N  D  I  .^. 


103 


covering,  that  if  France  was  bent  upon  their  destruction, 
they  were  and  must  be,  in  an  eternal  war,  unless  either 
France  should  change  her  purpose,  or  they  would  submit 
to  be  destroyed.  With  all  their  fears  and  complainings, 
they  have  never  been  sensible  to  above  half  their  dano-er. 
They  seem  always  to  have  supposed,  that  like  the  contests 
in  use  among  our  common  people,  (till  the  wisdom  of  ma- 
gistrates extinguished  those  remains  of  rustick  chivalry,) 
they  could  terminate  this  war  at  any  time,  by  only  de- 
claring that  they  had  had  enough. 


N.— Page  64. 

See  on  this  subject  the  important  facts  and  excellent 
reflexions  contained  in  chap.  2.  towards  the  end,  and  in 
other  parts  of  Professor  Robison's  valuable  work,  pub- 
lished in  1797,  and  entitled  "  Proofs  of  a  Conspiracy,  &c." 


O.— Page  70. 

Though  it  was  Francis  I.  who,  after  the  battle  of  Pa- 
via,  originally  expressed  himself  in  this  dignified  manner, 
the  King  of  Prussia  adopted  and  repeated  the  sentiment, 
upon  occasion  of  his  memorable  defeat  at  Schweidnitz. 
See  Ann.  Reg.  for  the  year  1761. 


P.— Page  75. 

The  population  of  these  provinces  is  bv  no  means 
stated  Avith  exaggeration,  when  it  is  said  *  far  to  exceed 
the  population  of  the  kingdom  of  Ireland.*  It  mi"ht  be 
described  with  truth,  as  <  nearly,  if  not  altogether,  equal 
to  the  population  of  Great  Britain.*     From  Caen  to  Bour- 

deaux, 


bI 


i 


K 


104 


APPENDIX. 


1 1 


deaux,  without  comprising  more  in  breadth  than  belongs 
properly  to  the  royalist  country,  there  is  a  population, 
according  to  the  statement  of  Mr.  Necker,  of  httle  less 
than  9,000,000.  In  ascertaining  the  proportions  of  this 
population  which  may  be  considered  as  royahst,  we  must 
distinguish  between  those  who  were  only  royahsts  in  their 
affections;  those  who  actively,  though  secredy,  favoured 
the  cause  ;  and  those  who,  at  diiferent  times,  openly  ap- 
peared in  arms.  By  ,the  numbers  of  the  last  of  these 
classes,  by  the  manner  in  which  they  maintained  them- 
selves, and  by  the  effects  which  they  produced,  we  may 
form,  perhaps,  the  surest  judgment,  though  possibly 
a  very  inadequate  one,  of  the  general  sentiments  and  dis- 
positions of  the  country.  If  those,  who  have  been  most 
Cfisaeed  in  these  scenes,  and  have  at  least  the  best 
means  of  knowing,  may  be  relied  on,  it  was  a  small  por-» 
tion  of  the  inhabitants  indeed,  and  those  confined  almost 
exclusively  to  the  towns,  who  were  not  royalists  in  their 
hearts.  But  facts,  and  the  inferences  resulting  from 
them,  may  after  all  be  considered  as  the  best  criterion, 
especially  to  those  who  may  not  have  the  means  of  re- 
sortinir  to  the  testimonies  which  we  have  alluded  to,  or 
of  appreciating  the  degree  of  credit,  that  may  be  due  to 
them.  Of  these  facts  the  principal  lie  open  to  the  ob-< 
seivation  of  every  body,  and  are  of  a  nature  little  liable' 
to  be  mistaken  or  misrepresented.  They  arc — the  length 
of  time  during  which  the  royalist  war  subsisted;  the  ar- 
mies which  it  obliged  the  Republick  to  employ ;  the  na- 
ture of  the  pacifications  which  took  place  in  different 
parts  of  it ;  the  anxiety  which  it  evidently  excited  in  the 
government,  during  the  whole  of  its  contiiuuince  ;  tiie 
iiiteriiiption  which  it  gave  to  the  communication  between 
the  metropolis  and  the  principal  sea-ports — the  transport  of 
goods  and  passengers,  and  letters  between  Paris  and  Brest 
being  sometimes  stopt  for  a  fortnight,  requiring  at  times 

aD 


I 


APPENDIX. 


105 


an  immense  escort,  and  being  at  all  times  attended  with 
considerable  danger,  insomuch  that  officers  going  to  join 
their  ships  often  preferred  a  passage  by  sea,  even  at  the 
risk  of  being   taken  by  our  cruisers; — these  are  facts, 
which  rest  on  no  authority  of  individuals,  and  may  afford 
^ome  measure  for  judging  of  the  degree  and  extent,  to 
which  the  sentiment  of  royahsm  prevailed  in  this  part  of 
France.     For  facts  of  a  description  somewhat  different, 
though  of  a  character  and  magnitude  not  to  be  much 
concealed  or  disguised,  such  as  the  nature  and  progress 
of  the  war  ;  the  armies,  which  the  royalists  were  able  to 
bring  into  the  field ;  the  manner  in  Avhich  they  employed 
them ;  »he  resources  which  they  possessed ;  the  energy 
which  they  displayed ;  for  these,  or  other  similar  ones, 
the  reader  would  do  well  to  have  recourse  to  an  Account 
(pubHshed  here  in  1796  and  since  translated)  of  Cam- 
paigns in  the  Vendee,  by  the  republican  General  Tur- 
reau,    the  same,   probably,   who  is  now    employed  in 
something  of  a  similar  service  in  Switzerland,  and  who, 
though  interested  in  some  degree  in  magnifying  tho  force 
of  an  enemy,  whom  he  was  employed  to  combat,  and 
requiring  in  that  respect,  as  well  as  in  several  others,  to 
be  read  with  some  reserve  and  caution,  may  yet  be  relied 
on  for  the  general  substance  of  his  narrative,  and  the 
principal  representations  which  accompany  it:  and  will 
afford  to  diose,  who  may  be  new  to  the  subject,  much 
valuable  information  on  the  history  and  circumstances  of 
this  most  extraordinary  and  affecting  war. 


Q.— Page  76. 

In  the  earl}'^  stages  of  the  war  of  la  Vendee,  before 
the  republicans  had  had  recourse  to  the  system  of  laying 

O  waste 


i;i 


.!■ 


>/',- 


/      '_^:H 


.1 


f . 


106 


A  P  P  E  N  D  I  Xi 


APPENDIX. 


107 


\^^aste  and  burning  the  country,  and  had  brought  the  >var 
to  a  footing,  in  which  no  quarter  was  given  on  either  side, 
Whatever  prisoners  were  taken  by  the  itiyalrsts,  were 
released  upon  the  condition  of  not  serving  again,  either 
against  them,  or  against  the  allied  powers-^  the  royalists 
having  imagined,  for  some  reasoa  or  another,  that  the 
aUies  and  they  were  engaged  in  a  common  cause,  and  that 
the  neglect  which  they  might  seem  till  then  to  have  ex- 
perienced, was  owing  Wholly  to  the  precautions  taken  by 
the  enemy  for  preventing  any  communication  with  them. 
When,  therefore,  they  heard,  in  the  year  1793,  that  the 
garrisons   of    IVIentz  and  Valenciennes  were    marching 
against  them,  knowing  that  these  gan'isons  had  surrender- 
ed upon  terms,  and  that  one  of  the  terms  was,  that  they 
should  not  serve  again  till  exchanged,  they  concluded 
that  this  was  a  new  instance  of  republican  treachery,  and 
that  these  troops,  a  numerous  and  most  formidable  body, 
the  ganison  of  Mentz  alone  being  reckoned  at  twelve 
thousand,  could  not  be  employed  in  this  service,  without 
some  scandalous  breach  of  engagement,  such  as  would 
excite  in  the  breasts  of  the  allies  no  less  resentment,  and 
indignation,  than  it  did  in  those  of  the  royalists.     What 
then  were  their  sensations,  when  they  found,  that  this 
\vas  no  treachery  on  the  part  of  the  republicans,  but  that 
tlie  allies  themselves  in  framing  their  capitulations,  and 
providing  that  these  garrisons  should  not  serve  against 
the  other  parties  in  the  war,  had  wholly  forgotten,  or 
neglected    to    extend    this    provision    to    the    case  of 
the  royalists;    who  with  an   army  of    immense  force 
in  point  of  numbers,  perfect  in  the  mode  of  its  com- 
position, animated  by  the  most  heroick  courage,  hciided 
by  officers  of  great  ability  and  experience,  but  still  v/eak 
to  a  great  degree  by  the  extreme  deficiency,  and  often 
total  want  of  ail  the  ordinary  means  of  war,  were  left  to 

prosecute 


Is- 


W- 


prosecute  as  well  as  they  could,  the  desperate  and  unequal 
contest  in  which  they  were  engaged,  disowned  and  aban- 
doned  by  all  the  world.     When  they  found  this,  their 
feelings  were  indeed  acute,  and  their  constancy  almo-^t 
shaken.     They  did  not  despair :  it  was  not  their  nature  to 
do  so:  but  left  thus  to  themselves,  abandor^ed  to  their 
own  resources,  without  aid,  without  co-operati9n,  pro- 
claimed, as  it  were,  to  all  Europe,  as  not  even  belonging  to 
that  confederacy,  of  which  they  might  have  been  excused 
in  hoping  that  they  should  have  been  placed  at  the  head; 
they  felt  that  their  prospects  were  truly  gloomy,  and  such 
as  might  well  have  excused  them  for  relinquishing  from 
that  instant  everv  thoun^ht  of  further  resistance.     That 
they  did   not  so   relinquish  their  hopes ;  that  tliey  long 
maintained  the  contest  with   unabated  vigour ;  that  the 
war  broke   out  afterwards  with    fresh   violence;  that   it 
never  ceased  to  be  renewed  at  ever}'  favourable  oppor- 
tunity, till  the  last  of  the  continental  powers  had  sub* 
initted  and  made  its  peace  ;  that  the  elenicntsi  of  it  remain 
entire  to  this  day ; — these  are  truths,  which  ouglit  to  bo 
known  and  remembered  for  the  credit  of  those  coaceruedi 
though  they  yield  but  little  consolation  in  the  retrospect, 
and  can  now  unhajjpily  aiford  no  ground  of  hope  for  the 
future. 


ii.— Page  80. 

Those  who  may  before  have  tliought,  that  such  a 
vindication  was  necessarv,  will  not  be  less  of  tliat  opinion, 
when  they  shall  be  told,  that  within  the  last  twelve  months, 
more  than  three  Iiuntlred  royalist  officers  have  been 
taken  and  put  to  death,  in  the  western  provinces,  and  that 
ot  these  all  but  forty  or  fifty  have  sutiei'ed  since  the  date 
of  the  preliminary  treaty.  In  tiie  name  of  all  that  is 
sacred,  what  justification  e;in  a  gjvernment  or  a  country 

O  2  o.Ter 


II 


^ 


lOS 


APPENDIX. 


offer  for  such  conduct  ?  Three  hundred  men,  or  at  least  a 
great  proportion  of  them,  sacrificed  to  the  vengeance  of 
their  enemies,  simply  because  we  neglected,  or  refused  to 
listen  to  their  solicitations  to  be  allowed  an  asylum  in  this 
country,  when  in  consequence  of  the  peace  which  we  were 
makings,  their  service  could  be  no  lonj^er  useful  in  their 
own  !  Do  we  mean  to  say,  that  these  persons  had  no  claim 
upon  us  to  the  extent  of  what  they  asked  ?  Or  that  we  could 
not  afford  the  expense  of  receiving,  and  providing  for  so 
many  additional  emigrants?  Monstrous  as  either  of  these 
allegations  would  be,  they  would  still  be  better  than 
what  alone  remains, — the  direct  and  unqualified  confes- 
sion, that  we  did  not  dare  to  admit  into  this  country  men; 
to  whom  we  were  bound  by  every  tie  to  furnish  a  place 
of  refuge  and  safety,  lest  by  so  doing  we  should  give 
offence  to  our  enemies.  In  what  a  state  must  the  pro- 
bity of  a  great  country  be,  when,  in  a  case  like  the  pre- 
sent, such  a  motive  can  be  made  a  principle  of  action  ? 
to  what  must  the  mind  of  a  country  be  reduced,  when  it 
can  bear,  that  such  a  motive  should  become  manifest  to 
the  world  ? 

It  may  not  be  thought  a  tricing  aggravation,  (if  in 
such  a  mass  of  shame  aggravations  were  worth  thinking 
of,)  that,  just  at  this  moment,  a  condemned,  though  par- 
doned traitor,  Napper  Tandy,  is  released  from  prison, 
and  allowed  to  sail  to  France,  yielded,  we  presume,  as  an 
act  of  grateful  attention, — a  kind  of  marriage  present,  to 
the  first  Consul.  Napper  Tandy,  be  it  remembered,  was 
not  a  person  to  whom  the  faith  of  the  French  ggvernment 
was  pledged  by  any  publick  declaration,  unless  it  sliall  be 
contended,  as  perhaps  it  ought,  that  their  decree  of  the 
19th  of  November  1792  still  continues  in  force  :  he  was 
not  a  person  engaged  in  one  of  those  civil  wars,  of  which 
iistory  may  furnish  examples,  wherein  the  rights  and  pre- 
tentions 


f 


A  P  P  E  K  D  I  X. 


109 


tentions  of  the  parties  were  so  equally  balanced,  as  to 
make  it  doubtful,  on  which  of  the  two  sides  the  crime  of 
commencing  hostilities  and  breaking  up  the  public  peace 
ought  in  justice  to  be  charged.  He  was  a  traitor  in  the  com- 
mon sense  of  the  word,  and  upon  the  clearest  evidence  of 
the  thing,  and  was  condemned  according  to  the  established 
principles,   on  which  the  lives  of  such  persons  have  be- 
come forfeit  at  all  times,   and    in  all  countries.     The 
first  Consul  however,  as  is  supposed,  thought  fit  to  ask 
his  release :  and  the  government  here  complied  with  his 
request.     Such  was  the  state  of  the  intercourse  between 
the  two  countries  on  the  subject  of  persons  of  this  descrip- 
tion.    But  the  royalists  of  France,  persons  who  had  been 
acting  in  conformity  to,  perhaps  in  consequence  of  our 
proclamations ;  whose  objects  we  had  declared  to  be  sub- 
stantially our  own  ;  of  whose  assistance  we  had  a  right 
ttt  avail  ourselves,  according  to  every  principle  of  the  la\^ 
of  nations;  who  are  not  to  be  confounded,  as  is  often 
wickedly   or  ignorantly  done,    with  rebels  and  traitors, 
the  subverters  of  tlieir  respective  governments,  but  were 
on  the  contrary  the   upholders  of  the  constitution  of  their 
country  in  opposition  to  sucli  rebels  and  traitors  ;  to  these 
royahsts  we  refused  an  asylum,  lest  we  should  offend  the 
irritable  majesty  of  an  usurper,  and  indispose  him  to  grant 
such  terms  of  peace,  as  those  by  which  the  safety  of  tho 
country  is  now  so  happily  secured.     If  these  things  do 
not  disgrace  and  dishonour  a  country,  I  am  at  a  loss  to 
know,  what  the  disgrace  and  dishonour  of  a  country  is. 
We  seek  to  conciliate  the  favour  of   an  imperious  and 
vindictive  enemy,  by  the  desertion  of  our  friends,  and  the 
sacrifice  of  our  national  faith  and  honour.     Our  enemy, 
we  may   rest'  assured,    will  only  despise  us  the  more, 
without  our  deriving  from  that  feeling  any  relaxation  of 
the  motives,  which  haye  long  led  him  to  resolve  on  our 
destruction. 


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Printed  by  Cox,  Son,  and  Baylis,  No.  75,  Great  Queen  Street, 

Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 


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